


The Thread of Destiny

by estriel



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dark Elves, Drama & Romance, Elves, Fate & Destiny, M/M, Magic, Red String of Fate, Soulmates, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 11:22:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22635286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estriel/pseuds/estriel
Summary: When a dark marking appears on Javi's skin one day and disrupts his peaceful life, he has no choice but to run. And even if he doesn't quite know what he is running from, or towards, he might find unexpected light even in the darkness. A story of love, destiny... and a little bit of magic.
Relationships: Javier Fernández/Yuzuru Hanyu
Comments: 178
Kudos: 85





	1. A Touch of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Some time last year, @MsDaring drew a picture. Half an hour later, I had plot. Several months - and many headaches - later, I have a finished novella-length fic and a set of amazing illustrations by [@MsDaring aka @kakimashouu](https://www.instagram.com/kakimashouu/) that go with it.  
Thank you, ベア-さん for putting up with me while I was writing this story, and always cheering me on. And thank you for all the hard work you put into your art pieces! I love them to bits! <3
> 
> This is a finished fic (not a WIP), but will be posted in chapters over the next few weeks. Please bear in mind that I am not a native speaker of English, so if there are any hiccups in the text, I apologize in advance. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the story! <3

The dark stain on Javi’s chest seems to be spreading. It had appeared a while ago, just a small, misshapen pinprick of black on his skin, right above his heart.

He had first mistaken it for dirt, or ink, perhaps, from where he had been helping Laura copy text from their grandmother’s tomes on healing and herbs, ailments and aids, while Laura appended her own notes and discoveries. When it had refused to come off, no matter how hard he scrubbed himself above the basin that first night, Javi had just shrugged it off, and gone to sleep.

Several restless nights later, he’s now staring at his chest in the looking glass, and for the first time, something akin to fear takes hold in the pit of his stomach. The small dot has expanded, tendrils of black crawling out in all directions. It doesn’t feel any different to the touch, just sitting there like a spider in the center of its web.

Javi runs his hand through his hair, feeling tired, and heavy, and cold despite the warm summer morning. He blinks at his reflection, then splashes some water on his face, as if the jolt of cold could wash away the dark rings under his eyes. As if something as simple as water could rid him of the unpleasant memories of his nightmares, erase the vague sense of dread that has pervaded his nights as of late.

_Bad things always happen to good people_, Javi’s grandmother used to say, pointing a crooked finger and nodding to herself gloomily. Javi had always laughed at her, then wrapped her in an embrace and kissed her cheek to cheer her up. _The world is a wonderful place, _he would say, _you just have to keep your eyes open to it._

Now, staring at himself in the mirror – his brown eyes somehow duller, his hair mussed up from all the tossing and turning, his skin sallow with exhaustion – Javi wonders if maybe his grandmother had a point.

*

The way Laura is furrowing her brows as she inspects the mark on his chest makes Javi feel more worried than all the nightmares of the previous several nights combined.

“What?” he asks, growing impatient under his sister’s scrutiny.

Laura smacks her lips, clearly displeased with him. “Sit still,” she says and squints harder, bringing the magnifying glass so close to her face that Javi gets an unsettling glimpse of a giant brown eye rather than Laura’s normal one, so very much like his in color and shape. “Hmmm.”

Javi knows better than to ask again, and so he just sits there on the chair Laura had pulled up to the window in the spare room she uses as her study, and tries not to move too much. He had felt ridiculous enough telling Laura about this a couple of days ago. Laura treating him like a specimen, treating this _thing_ like something real, something to be observed, rather than just telling him it’s nothing, is making Javi want to jump right out of his skin.

Finally, Laura seems to be done with her examination. Javi does not like the expression on her face when she looks up, laying the magnifying glass aside.

Then Laura sighs, and Javi likes that even less. “I have no idea,” she admits, her shoulders drooping in defeat. “I looked through all the books but…” She shrugs, clearly vexed. But under the frustration, and anger at not knowing what type of ailment seems to have infected him, Javi detects a faint trace of concern. Then Laura looks at him, eyes serious, and says: “You should go see the old grouch.”

Javi nearly laughs. Then his laughter dies in his throat when he realizes that Laura must be truly desperate to even suggest this. She hates the village healer, or rather the claptrap he offers instead of actually helping those who come seek his advice.

“You think Galen actually knows something you don’t?” he asks Laura in disbelief. 

“Spirits! No!” Laura rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t know anything about medicine.” She pauses, then reluctantly admits: “He does know a lot of stories, though.”

Javi opens his mouth to comment – is she actually suggesting a _story_ will help with this? Then he remembers that this is not Laura’s fault. She is trying to help. Has been ever since he told her, keeping her lamp burning late each night to try and find something in the leather-wrapped tomes lining the walls of her study… She does not deserve him to be snappish with her. It’s just the exhaustion talking, fraying at his nerves with alarming speed.

“I’ll go see him, then,” he says and nods. “Thank you,” he adds and gently pats his sister’s wrist. She looks at him, and her expression sends chills down Javi’s spine. Laura looks pale, and small, and somehow much younger than her 27 years. Javi has not seen her upset like this since the death of their parents eleven years ago. Laura has been his rock for as long as he can remember. Now she seems scared and Javi’s insides clench uncomfortably at the notion. “What?” he asks quietly.

“You’re the only one I have left,“ she whispers, then must notice Javi’s face because she shakes her head, her mask of pragmatism back in place. She clears her throat. “Just go to Galen. Go soon, Javi.”

*

The cobbled main street is as familiar as ever, but somehow, everything seems darker despite the bright morning sun. Javi’s feet feel heavy as he walks, and he cannot shake the feeling of dread that filled him when Laura had hinted at losing him. The morning is warm, leaves whispering in the lightest of breezes, but Javi feels cold, colder than even the previous days.

Still, he pastes on a smile as he passes his neighbors, walking past their houses on his way to the hillock just beyond the village where Galen lives his semi-hermitic life.

He waves at old Beatriz, who is basking in the sun on her porch, one of her three cats slinking between her legs while she’s knitting a colorful scarf.

He smiles for real, his weariness lifting for a moment, when Marina and Corral’s boys jump from the apple tree in their garden and come running towards him, shouting their greetings over the low fence.

“When’s the next lesson, Javi?!” Tom hollers, striking a pose, arm held aloft as if he was holding an imaginary sword above his head.

“We’ve been practicing!” adds his twin brother, moving through some footwork Javi had shown them the last time they had convinced him to teach them how to sword-fight. It’s not a skill Javi uses often, at least not for its primary purpose. These days, his sword mostly comes in handy when some wild game gets tangled in brambles. But it is a useful thing to know. He still practices daily, moving through the familiar figures and stances, ensuring his arms are used to the heft of the sword in his hand, that his feet stay as quick as they were when he still believed hiring his blade out for coin was the only way he could contribute to their household’s humble income. Javi doesn’t miss those days. But it never hurts to stay in shape. Just in case. Still, he has never killed a man, and he hopes he never will, either, now that he has moved on to guarding the village, ranging the woods, making sure everyone and everything is safe and sound. He hopes Tom and Dan will never need to use a sword in combat, either.

“I’ll let you know,” he responds to the boys with a shrug, keeping things non-committal. If he gets some sleep, he’ll be happy to teach them again, but like this…

“Make it soon, please!” Dan cries and strikes his invisible weapon at Tom.

“Can I come, too?”

It’s Marla, their younger sister. She climbs from the tree a little bit slower than the twins had, but lands with such cat-like grace that makes Javi think she might make a better swords-woman than the two boys combined.

“You can come, too, Marla,” he laughs despite the joint protestations from both her brothers. “None of that,” Javi warns, turning to them. “Or I’ll give Marla private lessons. She deserves them just as much as you two.”

The boys scowl a little but in no time, all three of them are off and running, shouting about some new heroic quest in the garden. Javi smiles fondly, his spirits lifted momentarily.

Antonio and Caleb are working in their garden as he passes their house, and he doesn’t disturb them. He just watches as they exchange a quick smile, Antonio wiping some dirt from his brow before he bends again to his weeding. There is such contentment, such affection in that brief interaction he witnesses that Javi’s whole heart aches. When he and Laura had first come to their grandmother’s village after their parents’ death, he had been curious, but too young to unravel life’s mysteries – like love, and a connection that went beyond his understanding. All he could see was that special energy Antonio and Caleb seemed to have, a bond like he hasn’t seen before, not even with his parents, despite all their love for each other.

_“Almagemela”_, his grandmother had said, her voice hushed, when he had asked about them. “Soulmates.”

Javi remembers snorting at the notion. “But that’s only in fairytales,” he had said.

“For some people, it is,” his grandmother had said sharply, and that had been the end of that discussion.

Javi still doesn’t know what to think. He has heard other villagers refer to Antonio and Caleb as _almagemela, _after that. It is usually over cups in the tavern that the topic comes up, though, usually when the talk moves to who is going to marry whom. He quickly tunes it out when that happens, considering that people like to gossip about everything and anything, even if there’s very little truth to the story. Besides, Laura frequently gets mentioned in such discussions, unmarried as she is… and after a few tries at defending his sister and her dedication to knowledge that trumps her interest in suitors, Javi has learned that the quickest and easiest way for talk to stop is to simply ignore it.

But whenever he sees Antonio and Caleb together, he wonders… What must it be like to love someone like that? To have someone love you back?

He sighs, shakes his head, and picks up his pace. He has more pressing matters to worry about now. Love can wait. 

*

Galen’s hut smells like half-rotten vegetables. Javi suddenly feels sorry for the villagers that come seek his aid instead of Laura’s – the concoction bubbling in the pot hung above the fire-stove does not look particularly ingestible, neither as medicine, nor as soup.

“So,” Galen drawls, closing the door behind Javi and trapping them inside with the noxious smells. “Has young miss Laura finally concluded that my knowledge is superior to hers?” Galen crosses his arms and looks down at Javi over the tip of his upraised nose. There is black dirt under his nails, Javi notices. Laura always makes sure to have her hands clean while working. “It is about time, you know. She has been at this nonsense for long enough.”

The sheer disdain in Galen’s voice makes Javi’s hackles rise, but he forces himself to stay calm, let it roll off of him like he does at the tavern whenever the locals start whispering about his sister. He takes a breath. “She mentioned you may know some tales,” he says and watches with satisfaction as Galen’s blue eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.

“Tales?!” Galen sputters. “Who do you think I am, a storyteller? Like one of these good-for-nothing bards that come singing songs about useless heroics?” Galen shakes his head. In his world, anything fun, anything entertaining, is clearly nothing but folly. “I am a serious medical practitioner, young man, and if you have come to insult me – “

“I have a medical condition,” Javi interrupts. He does, after all, need whatever help he can get, even if it comes from Galen. “May I show you?”

Galen grumbles, too low for Javi to catch, but in the end motions for Javi to sit in one of the chairs by the window. “Show me, then,” he says magnanimously, and waits.

Javi reluctantly unlaces his shirt at the neck and pulls it down over his shoulder to show Galen the mark on his chest. He grimaces when he notices that it has grown a little again.

When he looks up, Galen is staring at him with his mouth agape, his thin beard quivering as he mutely moves his jaw the way a fish out of water would. One of his gnarled hands is moving, as if of its own accord, drawing the sign of the Spirits into the air in front of him, over and over.

“You – “ Galen finally manages, and his voice sounds like cracked pottery. “That –“

Javi feels his heart-rate pick up, feels the cold sweat at the back of his neck. This is not good, not good at all. “What is it, Galen?” he asks, struggling to keep his voice even.

“Get out. Get out of the village,” Galen rasps out, motioning for Javi to leave, his eyes wild and darting around the hut.

Javi stares at him. “What? Why?”

“Cursed, you are – marked. Sweet Spirit of Life, you are –”

Javi stands up, intent on getting some straight answers out of Galen because the man’s current babbling is not making any sense. This is not what Javi had expected, far beyond even Galen’s level of theatrics. Worst of all, Galen’s drama for once does not seem put-on for the sake of scaring his patients into wasting more coin on his services.

“What is going on, Galen?” he asks firmly, and steps towards the old man. Galen recoils, waving his arm again and again, as if the Spirits’ sign could save him from – from Javi?! That is crazy. “Tell me what it is,” Javi glares, feeling all his frustration and tiredness spill over. He does not have the patience for this, not today.

His tone clearly gets through to Galen because he stops rolling his eyes around and fixes them on Javi. “The touch of the Dark Elves. It is upon you,” Galen barks. He glances at Javi’s chest, makes a sound like a dog that’s just been kicked, and quickly looks away from the mark. 

Javi hastily pulls his shirt back on, and Galen seems to breathe with relief. As if hiding the mark made it any less real.

“Dark Elves?” Javi asks, shaking his head. “I’ve had nightmares, and I can’t sleep, and I feel heavy and slow, but – “

“You will bring bloodshed and terror upon the whole village,” Galen says, his voice pitching high on the last word. “That’s what they say, that’s what happens!”

Javi stares at Galen, his chest suddenly constricted, the real weight of his sleepless nights falling upon him like a boulder. He feels wrung out, and scared, and weak. If he could sleep, he is sure the whole thing would appear less threatening, but right now, his ears ring with Galen’s words – bloodshed, terror, village…

Javi swallows thickly and draws a breath. It is a struggle, as if his lungs were withering inside him, as if the patch of black on his chest was leeching off his air.

“Who _they_?” he asks, grasping for the one part of Galen’s statement that does not sound like something out of Javi’s worst nightmare. “Who says that?”

Galen shakes his head, impatient, and starts shuffling towards the door. “It’s – it’s an old story, a very old story,” he mumbles as he goes, the whole time trying to shoo Javi along. “I heard it from my father, who had it from his grandmother. It happened in the next village, not here in Tillo. A girl, she had a mark – just like this, a spider of black on her chest, crawling, growing. She was half-mad by the time the elves came, but her family still wanted to shelter her, to save her,” Galen pauses, even though his mouth keeps moving as if he was muttering to himself. “All dead,” he says. “They were all dead because they tried to stand in the way.”

Javi blinks, raising his hand to his heart without thinking. The beat is strong, rapid, but steady, alive.

Galen looks him in the eye, and shoves open the door. “Leave, Javier,” he says, and Javi can’t but nod, too confused for anything else. “Don’t kill us all,” Galen says, and Javi realizes he doesn’t simply mean leave his hut. He means leave for good.


	2. A Looming Shadow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by the lovely [@MsDaring on AO3 / @kakimashouu on IG](https://www.instagram.com/kakimashouu/).

Javi is not even sure how he makes it back home. He feels dizzy as he stumbles along the path, the same ideas circling inside his mind over and over again.  _ Death _ . He is going to die. But as terrifying as that prospect is, it is less scary than the other part of the tale Galen has shared. Bloodshed. Doom for the entire village. People getting in the way and dying. Because of him.

The black mark on his chest seems alive now, burning into his skin. Dark Elves, Galen had said. Javi has never even seen an elf, nor is he sure if anyone in the village has. They’re supposed to be a thing of legend, a fairytale, a people so beautiful that the moon and stars pale next to them. It seems surreal, unbelievable…

And yet Javi knows Galen is right. Suddenly, the vague nightmares he’s been having crystalize into something solid in his mind, and he remembers the willowy figures clad in black, raven-haired and striking, shadows swirling around them as they advanced through Javi’s dreams, an unstoppable wave of darkness ready to swallow Javi up and sweep him away.

He staggers, feeling weak as the fear of impending doom sinks its claws into him. He thinks of bringing harm to the village, of Laura slaughtered in their home, her books strewn all over the floor…

No. He may be doomed to die. But Javi is damned if he will take anyone with him. He must leave – the sooner the better, Javi thinks, and briefly considers stumbling out into the woods now. Let the elves chase him there, take him if they can. He turns, takes a determined step towards where the woods lie – then he realizes that this is foolishness. He wouldn’t make it far, not without a horse, or provisions. Or his sword, he thinks, as the visions from his nightmare bloom again inside his imagination. He needs to be fast, get as far as possible… He needs a plan.

With that, Javi strides out towards his and Laura’s house.

His idea is to strike out as soon as he has packed a few necessities and saddled Effie. But the moment he steps inside, and inhales the familiar scents – Laura’s herbs and ointments, the lingering scent of coffee that wafts in from the kitchen – his exhaustion seems to catch up with him. Javi has barely slept the past several nights and his eyes feel like sandpaper, his limbs like lead. All he wants to do is lie down and rest for a tiny moment.

He drags himself through the house, though, forcing his hands and feet to move. Laura is not home, probably off to collect this herb or that, or maybe to check on the little girl in the neighboring village who Laura had said is recovering from a severe case of the pox. It is the ideal opportunity to prepare for his departure.

He wraps a loaf of the crusty bread he and Laura bake in waxed cloth, packs a chunk of cheese, some dried fruits from the pantry. A spare shirt, some ointments he knows help with pain and bruises, as well as a stoppered vial of the sleep draught Laura has distilled for him. It does little to help, at best knocks him out cold for an hour or two, but right now, it seems those two hours of sleep may be the only thing that is keeping him from lying down on the floor and giving up.

He fills two flasks with water from the well, then carries everything out into the small horse shed behind the house, and packs his saddle bags. Then he goes out into the field and whistles.

Effie comes galloping towards him, whinnying and tossing her head happily as she comes near.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he greets her when she pushes her muzzle into his palm. He leans against the mare, the warmth of her strong neck calming him a fraction. “We’re going to go on an adventure,” he tells Effie. “Will you carry me, hm?”

Effie makes another content sound, and Javi smiles. At least he is not going on this journey completely alone.

*

“Javi.”

Javi starts, then blinks wildly as the late afternoon sun hits his pupils, all too bright. There is a figure leaning over him, silhouetted against the light, and instantly his heart is in his throat, beating madly, fear a sharp spike inside him. He scrambles backwards only to hit a wall behind him.

“It’s just me, Javi.”

Laura. It’s only Laura. Javi exhales heavily and slumps back against the wooden wall of the horse shed. He must have nicked in for a few moments after sitting down there, watching Effie graze.

“You gave me a scare,” he pants, wiping at his brow.

“I can see that,” says Laura and offers him a hand up. Javi takes it, more grateful for the aid than he is willing to let on. It’s like he’s dragging himself through a bog, slow and clumsy in his tiredness. “Come on.”

He follows his sister back inside their house and drops down into a chair in the kitchen while Laura sets some water to boil over the stove.

“What did Galen say?” she asks, straight to the point as always. And just like that, the memories are back. Darkness. Death. Bloodshed.  _ All dead. _

“I have to leave,” he blurts, and starts getting up.

“Hey, hey –“ Laura whips around to stop him. She pushes him back into his seat. “Hold it. Not so fast.”

“I have to – “ Javi starts again, then closes his mouth when Laura pins him with a stare that leaves no room for argument. “Laura, I must leave, Galen – “

“Yes, Galen,” she repeats, and sets the two mugs she’s holding down on the table, a little too forcefully. “What nonsense did the old witcher tell you to scare you this much?”

Javi wants to protest that he’s not scared, but Laura knows him better than anyone. And at this point, Javi is sure his fear must be etched into his face. He sighs, drops his head into his hands.

“The mark on my skin – it is the sign of the Dark Elves,” he says. A shiver runs down his spine, as if the very mention of the elves could bring murderous riders crashing through the door.

Laura bursts out laughing. Then, when Javi looks up sharply, she stops, clears her throat. “Sorry,” she says softly, and pats Javi’s shoulder. “Here,” she adds, taking the kettle from the stove and pouring its contents into the two mugs. The fragrant aroma of ground coffee beans fills the air and Javi inhales it, grateful for the familiar scent, the bitter flavor when he takes a sip. “I know your condition is not a laughing matter. In fact, I have been thinking… and I have some ideas. And well, Galen’s  _ diagnosis _ …” Laura trails off, shaking her head. “It’s horseshit, you know that.”

Javi wishes he could believe her. Take his older sister’s word for it, let her pragmatism calm him. But he  _ knows _ – he can feel the inky darkness spreading across his skin, and with it, the knowledge that he is being called, slowly, steadily, into the Death Spirit’s embrace…

“It’s not,” he says heavily. “It’s the truth. I can feel it. I need to leave, Laura, or I will doom the whole village, and everyone in it. The Dark Elves – “

“The Dark Elves!” Laura cries, and coffee sloshes out of her cup as she slams the cup down. “Javi, just stop it, please,” she goes on, and Javi can tell she is trying hard not to roll her eyes. At the same time, though, he can see the tremor that runs through her, the way she’s looking at him – like she is scared, too, just as scared as he is. “We’ll figure it out, I have some new ideas, I’ll prepare some more of the sleep draught. It’s going to be okay. There’s no – “

A sharp, loud knock on the door interrupts her mid-sentence. They both jump at the sound, glancing towards the door.

_ It’s nothing _ , Javi tells himself and stands up to go open the door.

“Open the door,” he hears before he even reaches the door.

“Yes, open the door! Come out!” a second voice, even louder.

“I’m coming,” Javi calls, and yanks the door open. He finds himself face to face with the village chief, Kian, and Antonio and Sara, his two advisors. Standing behind them, though, is Galen, and a bunch of other villagers – neighbors, people Javi knows, people he or Laura have helped before. They do not look very friendly right now, their faces hard, their eyes unsettled.

“I’m sorry, Javi,” Kian says, ever patient and reasonable. It had not been his voice crying for the door to be opened. “Can we come in?”

“Um – “ Javi says, then shrugs. “Of course, do come in,” he gestures and steps aside to let them through. Antonio gives him a small smile as he passes Javi, while Sara just looks at him, eyes serious. Kian walks in last, but then Galen pushes inside, too, crowding in behind the chief.

“I told you to leave,” Galen hisses, his eyes sharp. “I thought you’d be gone already.”

Javi purses his lips, but doesn’t comment, even though he knows this is all Galen’s doing, the whole procession at their door, the angry faces waiting outside.

The small kitchen feels crowded when all of them gather there, standing around the table.

“What is this about?” Laura asks sharply, hands on her hips. Javi wants to tell her that she doesn’t need to protect him, but Laura’s eyes are flashing and she seems ready to pounce, suspicious and wary of this sudden intrusion.

“We are merely here to talk to you,” Kian says calmly, addressing Laura. “Or rather, to talk to Javi, but I suppose it concerns both of you, so it’s only right that we are all here together.”

“Talk about what?” Laura inquires.

Javi holds out a hand. “Laura, it’s okay.” She shoots him a look but doesn’t comment further, and Javi knows she is biting her tongue. She has always been very protective of him, and even though he is not a boy anymore, he knows Laura still sees him as her little brother.

“We have been informed,” Kian starts, looking around the group, meeting all their eyes. His decidedly calm voice sounds as if he was expecting a backlash. “ – that you have… met with a rather unfortunate fate, Javi.”

“He’s cursed,” Galen interjects, folding his arms over his chest.

“Galen, please,” Kian says and Javi can tell that he is uncomfortable with the whole situation when he clears his throat before continuing. “Galen informs us that you carry a mark, a dark elven curse that marks you out for, well…” Kian sighs, casting for a word.

“Death,” Javi says, relieving Kian of his burden. There really is no kinder, easier way to say it.

A hush seems to descend upon the room, like the darkness Javi has been carrying around recently has suddenly burst out of him along with his words, settling on all their shoulders like a heavy cloak.

“Yes,” Kian nods solemnly. “And since this… unfortunate destiny is likely to bring dark times upon those around the bearer of the mark…” Kian sighs, rubs at his beard. “Javi, you know you are a valued member of our community. You are one of us. But, for the safety of everyone else in this village, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Galen nods vigorously, but Antonio and Sara look down as Kian speaks the sentence – because that is what it is, he may not put it in so many words, but he is effectively sentencing Javi to exile, even if he is too kind to say so.

Javi takes a deep breath, readying himself to say that of course, he will leave as soon as possible. It is what he has been planning on anyway, after all. But before he can say anything, Laura snorts beside him.

“A curse?” she spits out. “A mark of the Dark Elves? Death and doom?” She shakes her head, indignant, and glares daggers at the men and woman gathered in their kitchen. “Are you all out of your minds? Javi has a small mark on his skin, a  _ medical _ condition that I am sure can be treated, and your first instinct is to jump to the conclusion that it is a death curse and he must leave?” She lets out a disbelieving laugh and fixes Kian with a stare. “I would expect this sort of mumbo-jumbo from Galen, but for you to believe in such fairytales, Kian – “

“It’s alright, Laura,” Javi says, and touches her arm gently, feeling so, so tired. Tired of the sleepless nights, of the constant cold that has settled inside his bones, the darkness that seems to be tugging at him from all directions… Tired of arguing, too. He’d rather get this over with swiftly, agree with the chief and his advisors that he will, indeed, do as they ask, then have the rest of the evening to spend with his sister, say his goodbyes…

Laura jerks her arm away. “It’s not  _ alright _ ,” she snaps at him, her voice tight and sharp, and Javi can hear the choked-back tears in it, even if her eyes are dry. Then she rounds on the rest of the group. “Don’t you see that this is nonsense? Javi has done nothing wrong and you’re just going to – what, cast him out like the worst sort of criminal?”

“Laura, I am responsible for the safety – “ Kian starts in an attempt at appeasing Laura, but she is having none of it.

“And for what reason? Because  _ Dark Elves _ have  _ cursed  _ him?” She grimaces as she spits the words out, making it abundantly clear what she thinks of the whole tale. “It’s not even real. Nobody has even  _ seen _ an elf for generations!”

The silence after Laura’s outburst is a little stunned. Kian and Sara are looking awkward, while Galen is fuming at the various offenses Laura has piled on his head. Then Antonio coughs quietly. Five pairs of eyes snap to him.

“I have,” he says, “seen an elf.”

Javi feels his eyes go wide. An elf? Even though he can feel the effects of the black mark and has seen the dark willowy figures in his dreams, he can still scarcely believe the tale Galen had spun… He stares at Antonio, and tries to reconcile the aging man peacefully weeding his garden with his partner by his side with someone who has, apparently, seen a living myth.

“Not a dark elf, mind,” Antonio clarifies, shrugging his shoulders. “I was a young man, wandering the woods up North. She was a lass as beautiful as you’ll ever see, her eyes like a night sky full of stars, her skin as fresh as dewdrops on new grass in spring… “ Antonio’s eyes grow a little glassy as he pulls the vision of the elf out of his memory, and Javi feels drawn into the spell, charmed. It sounds like a fairytale, indeed, and Javi has always loved fantastic tales, making them up for the local children... Then Antonio laughs a little, and his expression softens, no longer distant and dreamy, but warm and real. “Then Caleb and I found each other, and nothing else could ever compare,” he says, voice fond.  _ Almagemela, _ Javi thinks, the word making his heart ring even more than the image of the elven beauty Antonio has just described.

“So what,” Laura cuts in, and the spell breaks. “So maybe elves are real,” she admits. “Doesn’t mean that the rest of it is.”

Javi can feel the atmosphere change, sharpen, the momentary wonder of Antonio’s tale vanishing into thin air. He can feel the fight that is coming, what with Laura trying desperately to shield him against the world.

“I’ll leave,” he says firmly and looks Kian straight in the eye. Kian nods, then glances around the group.

“We are done here,” he announces. “We will not bother you any further,” he says to Javi and Laura.

Javi can tell that Laura is seething beside him, ready to lash out anew, but he touches her arm. This time, Laura lets him.

They wait for the visitors to shuffle out. “Good luck,” Kian mutters on his way out, and Javi realizes that he has done it, truly sealed his fate now.

When the door shuts behind them, Laura rounds on him. “You are  _ not _ leaving,” she hisses and looks at Javi. Then all her anger seems to evaporate as quickly as it had arrived earlier. She reaches for his hand. “You can’t go, Javi. Please. You must know that this is nonsense!”

Javi considers telling her the truth. That he can feel it in his bones. That he knows that Galen is right. That he can sense Death calling to him every night… Instead, he lowers his voice.

“You’re right,” he says. “Earlier when you woke me up, I had a dream, a nightmare – and then you really gave me a scare,” he laughs a little, and hopes it doesn’t sound as fake to Laura as it does to him. “I was a little… eh… confused,” he admits, rubs at the back of his neck for effect, then shrugs. He is afraid that Laura will see right through him, but she is nodding, clearly relieved to accept this as her truth, the alternative too impossible and painful to believe.

“Look, I’m just going to take Effie, and leave for a few days, maybe ride out to Rovia and stay there for a while until things settle down here. You’ll give me some more of your sleep draught?” he asks, hoping to distract Laura, convince her that he is really going no further than to the inn in the nearest town, and not on a quest to… He’s not even sure what. To meet his fate, he supposes.

He yawns at that moment, unable to hold it back. Laura’s healer instinct kicks in, and Javi knows he has won when she says: “You need rest. I’m not letting you ride a horse, not even to Rovia, if you’re going to fall off of it because you’re too damn tired to stay in the saddle.”

“Of course,” he says. “I’ll go gather some things for the road, and then we’ll eat supper?” he suggests, and when Laura lifts an eyebrow, he adds: “I’ll lie down after that, I promise.”

“You better, Javier, or I’ll drug you to sleep myself,” she threatens, and heads to her study.

*

Leaving with Laura’s permission is both easier, and infinitely harder. It means that he doesn’t have to sneak out in the middle of the night like he had initially intended to do. But it also means he has to say goodbye to Laura, and pretend like it’s nothing but a temporary farewell.

The dawn is barely breaking when he’s finished saddling Effie. Laura is leaning against the wall of the horse shed, wrapped in a light shawl against the morning chill, a mug of coffee in hand.

She is eyeing him suspiciously, and when Javi fails to stifle a yawn, she asks: “You slept?”

He nods. “I did, don’t worry.” It’s not strictly a lie. He did sleep. So what if it was barely a couple of hours. So what if even these brief moments of sleep were filled with dark terror. “I’ll be fine, Laura,” he adds.

She doesn’t seem convinced but lets it go.

“Alright,” Javi says and steps towards Laura, spreading his arms wide. Laura sets her cup aside and steps into his embrace. She lays her head on his shoulder for a moment. Javi still remembers times when she was taller than him. It seems forever ago.

This may be the last time you see your sister, he thinks to himself, then blinks away the tears that want to well up in his eyes. He must not let Laura see through his ruse.

“Don’t forget to take the medicine I gave you,” Laura says, leaning back to look at him. “Get enough rest. Keep an eye on the spot on your skin, and come back home if you notice any major changes,” Laura goes on, as if she was ticking off her advice off a list. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she adds, and the corner of her mouth quirks up.

Javi wishes he could allow himself to feel the humor, fall back into the gentle teases and pokes that he and Laura usually trade. But his heart is seizing up inside his chest, and he is afraid that if he stays much longer, he will give himself away one way or another.

So he just pulls Laura in for one last hug. “Yes, yes, I know,” he says, hoping that the quiver in his voice is not too noticeable. “I love you, Laura,” he adds, and prays that it is not too much, too obvious. But he is not leaving without telling his big sister that. Then he gives her a firm squeeze before releasing her.

He climbs into the saddle and spurs Effie on, turning away from Laura, and their house, and his life. As he stares in the direction of the hills beyond which lies Rovia, Javi feels the tears as they start rolling down his cheeks. If Laura saw him now, Javi is sure she would understand his deception immediately. He doesn’t dare look back. 

*

The sun is disappearing over the horizon when Javi finally stops, after what feels like an eternity in the saddle.

He had ridden hard the entire previous day and well into the night before he curled up under his cloak by an unfamiliar stream, letting Effie graze and drink her fill while he attempted to sleep. It had been even harder than the preceding days, and he woke up drenched in cold sweat, panting in terror, when the night was still pitch-black. He had waited, shivering in the dark, for the sky to turn grey before he set out again. He may be destined for death, but there is no point in hastening it, no point in breaking Effie’s legs riding in the dark.

He had veered off the path he had started out on when he was halfway to Rovia, abandoning his false course. He had turned North instead, towards the distant mountains on the horizon.

North, Antonio had said. It is not a lot to go by, but it is better than nothing. It’s not like Javi has any hopes of finding anything. When he had washed up in the stream earlier today, the spot on his chest had looked larger still, tendrils sneaking over the left half of his chest, reaching, claiming him.

He sits down on the cold hard ground, and chews on some of the bread and cheese he had brought.

“Do you think we should go some more, Effie?” he asks when the mare wanders close to him, pressing her muzzle into his back. “It’s not quite dark yet. Are you tired, sweet girl? I am tired.”

Effie only snorts, then strolls away, happily munching on grass. Javi envies her her peace.

He feels like he’s sitting on needles, and he can’t quite shake the feeling that something is following him, nipping at his heels no matter how fast he rides, always there. It’s as if he sensed a presence, cold and dark, calling to him more and more with every passing day. He wonders if this is indeed the Spirit of Death calling, or if he is simply going crazy from the constant worrying and the severe lack of sleep.

In the end, he decides to press on. The further the better, he figures. Even if he does not find any elves to confront, at least he will be far enough from everyone he cares about, and certain he will cause them no harm. 

The meadows soon give way to woodland, tall pines and fir trees mixed with other types of trees, their leaves whispering in the light breeze to an almost eerie effect. It is darker in the forest. The fading daylight just barely filters through the canopy of branches, and Javi has to squint ahead to be able to ride.

The evening chill wraps around him, and the sounds of the night forest tug at his ears from all directions – it’s just a bird, he has to tell himself every so often, just a fox making the underbrush rustle. As familiar as he is with forests and all the life that dwells in them, Javi cannot shake the sudden paranoia. His heart is thudding inside his chest, and he wonders if this is what Death feels like, creeping up on you from the dark, long fingers reaching and reaching until they finally close around your throat…

Something wispy flies into his face and Javi lets out a startled cry. His hand is on the pommel of his sword before he realizes that it was just a branch, its leafy end brushing against his cheek as he rode past.

He spurs Effie on, recklessly pushing to go faster. He knows he should stop, but the feeling of being pursued, watched, chased grows stronger with every stride. He rides until all he can see is blackness, thick and solid, like a veil over his eyes. Then he slows down to a walk, but still clutches at Effie’s reins firmly, ready to spring back into a faster pace if necessary.

A wolf howls in the distance, and Javi feels goosebumps spring up along his flesh. It has nothing to do with the cold.

He can’t see. He can’t see, and he’s lost, and he’s alone in an unfamiliar forest and what was he thinking, riding out to seek out death?! He glances around wildly – was that a branch breaking, a leaf crunching under some pursuer’s foot?

He reaches for his sword, but doesn’t unsheathe it yet. Instead, he listens. There’s nothing but the wind, leaves rustling, and a night-bird piping up in the dark. Javi exhales heavily, and tugs at Effie’s reins to turn around –

Light.

That is the first thing Javi sees. Starlight, moonlight, he is not sure where it is coming from, but it seems impossibly bright.

Then he notices a figure standing in a clearing amidst the trees, bathed in the starlight, or perhaps the light is emanating from them. Javi can’t tell. He can’t breathe.

Is this what Death is?, he wonders briefly. But he does not feel frightened, there is none of the dread that has been filling his dreams, none of the fear, just… a pull, magnetic almost, its call sweeter and stronger than the one of darkness that has been clawing at Javi’s senses ever since the mark appeared.

There is no way, no way Death could be this beautiful. Javi can see pale skin glowing in the blueish moonlight, and dark hair, long, wispy strands fluttering as the breeze picks them up and blows them into the person’s face.

An elf, Javi realizes, staring at the features that seem etched from the whitest marble. Then the man – for it is a man, Javi is now sure – inclines his head, and the starlight strikes his eyes, and Javi feels as if the ground gave out beneath him.

He lets go of the saddle, prepares to dismount, to step closer, to see, to meet this -

An arrow whistles through the dark, faster than should be possible. Pain blossoms in his shoulder and the powerful hit sends Javi flying. He hears Effie’s whine, a shout in a language he doesn’t recognize, and then he hits the ground, the hard impact sending sharp pain raking from his shoulder all through his body.

He’s dizzy, spots of black dancing in front of his eyes, and he gasps in pain when he tries to move. He can’t hear any footsteps, but he can sense the elf moving towards him. Javi blinks, trying to see past sudden vertigo. 

And when his eyes finally focus, and he sees the elf’s face above him, Javi realizes that he truly must be doomed. Because if this is Death, he will embrace it gladly.

Then the blackness closes in on him, all his exhaustion and dread and pain dropping down on him like a boulder, and Javi lets out a shaky breath – and sees no more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments, as always. <3


	3. A Matter of Destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is apparently International Fanworks Day, so let's celebrate with another chapter and more amazing fanart by [@kakimashou](https://instagram.com/kakimashou). 
> 
> Also, thank you so much to all of you who have been reading along - I was worried nobody would be interested in the story, since it's an AU, so I'm thrilled that you enjoy the story so far!

Yuzuru hears the human from far away. Not many come stumbling through their woods, but Yuzuru has encountered humans before. They are usually not dangerous. And even if a  _ koshiri  _ ever did spell danger, Yuzuru could easily stop them with a swift arrow, heavy-footed and loud as they are.

He nocks an arrow now, but holds his bow low as he waits, listening. The mount the human is riding is tired, its walk heavy and slow. The human sounds more frightened than anything else. Yuzuru cannot quite hear their heart, but he can hear the harsh, rapid breathing. He wonders what brings them to this part of the woods, far from any  _ koshiri  _ settlement.

Yuzuru is not among those of his kin who sneer and look down upon the  _ koshiri _ , thinking them lesser for their lives that wilt and wane as quickly as summer blooms. He does not judge the humans for their many disadvantages, either – the way the eyesight, hearing, or speed of even the best of humans do not bear comparison to elvenkind. He does not find the  _ koshiri _ inferior, but simply different. Intriguing, even, though he is sure many of his kin would laugh at him and call it a youthful folly.

He hears the human from far away, indeed. It does nothing to prepare him for the moment the human rides into view.

It is not the way the man looks. His wide, brown eyes beneath their frame of thick lashes certainly are pretty, in their exotic way. His strong square jaw and the playfully curling hair are qualities that appeal to Yuzuru, although both are rather unusual among his kind. He can tell, at a glance, that he finds the man attractive, despite his human look, or perhaps because of it. The small scar on his cheek, the exhaustion etched around his eyes, the roughness of his hands. It all seems infinitely fascinating to Yuzuru.

But it is not the way he looks. It is the sudden burst of feeling the stranger stirs up inside Yuzuru’s heart that nearly makes him drop his bow in surprise.

It’s like a kick in the chest, a certainty and knowledge slamming into place with frightening intensity. It is warmth, reaching in to the very core of his being. It is like finding your way home after wandering lost through the woods for days. It is the first burst of sunlight and hope after a deluge. 

It is wonder, and delight and – along with it – disbelief. Because this is not how it is said to happen, or with whom. Meeting an  _ unmei no hito _ , your person of destiny, is something the elvenkind dream of and yearn for, a rare and precious gift. Except it is not supposed to happen with the  _ koshiri _ , frail and vulnerable and so desperately, tragically short-lived.

And yet here Yuzuru is, staring at the man whose face now breaks into a smile that goes straight to Yuzuru’s heart, and he is certain beyond any doubt that this stranger – this confused, exhausted man on a tame, sweet mare – is whom Destiny intended for him.

The man lets go of his grip on the saddle, and Yuzuru’s heart flutters when he realizes the stranger must feel it too, the thread of destiny taut between them, the almost magical pull that makes the rest of the world disappear around them. He moves to step towards the man, eager to meet his fate, unconventional as it may be.

“No!” Yuzuru screams, fear sharp and bitter on his tongue, and throws himself forward. Too late! The horse whinnies and rears, throwing its rider, and Yuzuru watches as the man – his destined one! – hits the ground and cries out in pain, his features contorting with the impact.

He’s on his knees beside the stranger before he knows what he is doing, before he has time to worry about the trashing horse, or wonder why Kibe shot the stranger.

For one precious moment, the stranger’s eyes meet his, and Yuzuru can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t focus on anything but this,  _ him _ . Then the brown eyes flutter closed, and the man loses consciousness.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Yuzuru mutters, scrambling to find the pulse point on the man’s neck – still there, Spirits be thanked, the frail human heart still beating.

“WHY?!” he rounds on Kibe, sensing his approach. “WHY DID YOU SHOOT?”

Kibe opens his arms a fraction, shrugs as if it didn’t matter, as if it wasn’t Yuzuru’s  _ soulmate _ passed out and bleeding on the ground.

“You seemed distracted, my prince,” Kibe says, and Yuzuru wants nothing more than to ram his fist into Kibe’s stomach, both for his actions and for the taunt of Yuzuru’s title, for the tone of his voice. “I only had your safety in mind.”

Yuzuru wants to –

But no, no, there are more important things.

“Get the horse,” he snaps at Kibe. If Kibe is going to mock him with his title, Yuzuru will use it to enforce his will. The face Kibe makes would be worth it, if Yuzuru were in a state to care about such things.

Instead, he turns back to the man lying on the ground. He looks almost peaceful now, unconscious, or he would if it wasn’t for the bloody stain blossoming on his shirt where the arrow protrudes from his shoulder, his leather vest pierced.

“He has a darkness about him,” Yuzuru hears Kibe hiss behind him. “That is why I shot. It is our duty to protect Kenkami, or did you forget?”

Hardly the way to speak to your superior, Yuzuru thinks absentmindedly, but he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care about anything but this – the buckles of the stranger’s vest coming undone, the fabric of his shirt, tearing under Yuzuru’s fingers when he yanks at it.

He’s breathing hard, his heart a trapped bird inside his chest, beating rapidly. Yuzuru doesn’t think he’s ever felt a fear as sharp, a terror so profound.  _ What if he dies, what if he dies, what if he dies _ , is all he can think about.  _ What if he dies before I even know him.  _ It is a train of thought he cannot stand to continue.

He pushes the torn fabric aside – he needs to know the extent of the damage, the danger. It is a clean shot, of course it is. Kibe’s aim is true even if his intentions are not. Yuzuru supposes he is lucky Kibe did not aim to kill.

And then he spots it. Black tendrils curling over the man’s chest. He feels it now, the darkness Kibe mentioned, swirling like a shadow around the stranger. Not his own darkness – Kibe had been wrong on that account.

Not his own darkness… but a thousand times more lethal.

Cold dread envelops Yuzuru, and he realizes he had not known true panic before. Suddenly, his chest feels leaden, and his heart is incredibly loud in his ears, drowning out everything else.

“No,” he whimpers, flattening his palms against the man’s skin as if he could hold the terrible black bloom at bay. Fate is a cruel master, Yuzuru realizes. Kibe’s arrow does not even matter. Death is hanging over the stranger like a black shroud – and with that, death is hanging over Yuzuru’s soul, too. 

For a moment, he sags with the weight of the realization. Then the desperation he feels hardens and crystalizes into something different. Determination. A will to defy this. His father always scolds him for being stubborn. So be it. And even if it is doom he has to stand against, he will stand. Because this man whom Yuzuru doesn’t know yet, but desperately  _ wants _ to know, is his destiny, and Yuzuru would be a fool to give up on that so quickly.

He whistles, a loud melodic trill, and works at staunching the blood leaking from the wound in the man’s chest, ignoring for now the mark on his skin. It doesn’t take long for Kōri to burst from the darkness and into the clearing. Yuzuru stands up to greet the stallion, briefly running his fingers through Kōri’s white mane.

“Help me,” he calls at Kibe, who has just finished calming and tying the man’s horse to a nearby tree. Then he squats back down, gently sliding his arms under the man’s armpits.

“What are you doing?” Kibe hisses, eyes flashing in alarm as he understands Yuzuru’s intention. “Where are you taking him?”

Yuzuru just gives him a glare. To Yuzuru’s relief, Kibe obeys his order, even though his face is filled with annoyance. Then Kibe spots the man’s chest through the ripped shirt.

“Are you mad?!” he cries and steps back as if stung. “That is a mark of the  _ kurosei _ !” The Dark Elves, their kin that dwell further north, under the ever-present mist of the mountains. The closest Yuzuru has ever been to one was a glimpse he caught when he was only a youth, and their envoy had come with a message for Yuzuru’s father. A rare occasion, that, for the  _ shirosei  _ do not really mingle with their dark kin. Still, there are rules. Agreements. Treaties so ancient and sacred that they are half-legend…

“Help. Me,” Yuzuru snaps, his panic at the thought of losing his destined one fueling his determination.

“Don’t you know what this means?” Kibe asks, annoyance replaced now with something akin to true fear. “He has been  _ claimed _ .” His eyes snap to the stranger, still lying on the ground between them, half lifted into Yuzuru’s arms.

“He has,” Yuzuru says, voice low and cold. “ _ I _ claim him.”

Kibe stares, swallows, then mutters something that sounds an awful lot like  _ madness.  _ But he squats beside Yuzuru and helps him raise the stranger onto Kōri’s back, holding his limp form steady until Yuzuru swings up behind him, wrapping his arms securely around the stranger’s torso.

“Ride ahead. Rouse Akira,” Yuzuru tells Kibe, and does not wait for his reply.

He spurs Kōri into a gentle trot, too afraid to ride faster with the stranger injured and heavy in his arms. But all the while as Kōri moves, treading confidently in the familiar woods, Yuzuru cannot help but detest how slow the stallion’s strides seem, painfully aware of minutes slipping by.  _ Please stay with me _ , he thinks, keeping one hand over the stranger’s heart.  _ Please do not leave just yet. _

_ _

*

Yuzuru has always loved the night. The stars, the velvety quiet of the sleeping forest, the gentle gurgle of water from the stream that runs just behind his cottage, close to the heart of Kenkami.

Now the night seems to stretch impossibly long, thick and menacing.

“He will live,” Akira had said after removing the arrow, after cleaning and bandaging the wound. “For as long as he has left,” he had added darkly before leaving Yuzuru in his cottage, alone with the stranger now resting in the middle of Yuzuru’s bed.

Could fate truly be so cruel, Yuzuru wonders. To give him this, a first, infinitesimal glimpse of how it feels to have met your  _ unmei no hito,  _ only to take him away so soon after? He will not believe it. He will not  _ allow  _ it.

The man’s features are drawn tight, a frown between his brows, his jaw clenched.

“He is now asleep,” Akira had told Yuzuru once he was done treating the wound, after casting the healing spells Yuzuru could only imagine the purpose of. “No longer unconscious – I raised that veil of darkness. I cannot lift the other.” He had looked at Yuzuru then, and perhaps noticed some of the agitation in his face, for he went on: “You should rest as well, Yuzuru.”

Yuzuru had nodded to that, which made Akira sigh. The older elf had known immediately what Yuzuru’s nod meant. Acknowledgement, not agreement.

Now Yuzuru looks down at the stranger, and for the first time since he glimpsed him in the woods, he feels tired. Still, the stranger looks way more exhausted. There are dark rings under his eyes, as if he had not been sleeping well…  _ is _ not sleeping well now, either, Yuzuru realizes, as the stranger stirs, a pained whimper falling from his lips.

Yuzuru does not possess his sister’s talent for magic. Saya will be a great mage one day, after her apprenticeship. Even now, she can do things Yuzuru can only dream of. He has never envied her her skill – never until now. Now he wishes he could do more than the simplest magic he knows by heart, a lullaby of a spell more than anything else. He has seen Saya use it many times, has felt its effects, even, on nights when peaceful sleep eluded him when he was younger.

He touches the stranger’s forehead, running two fingers gently from one temple to the other while he whispers the words. Slowly, gently, he feels the magic unfold under his touch. And with it, the stranger’s face relaxes, the deep frown eases.

“Sleep,” Yuzuru whispers into the night, even though he knows he himself won’t, not with a mind that refuses to quiet, all of him alight both with worry and wonder. “Sleep,” he repeats as he lowers himself down onto the bed by the stranger’s side. His body is warm, warmer than Yuzuru ever thought possible. He wants to drape himself around the stranger’s sleeping form, cocoon him, protect him. Instead, he simply lies down on his side next to the stranger. He finds the man’s chest once more, placing his palm there, feeling the patter of the man’s heartbeat under his fingers. “Sleep,” he whispers one final time, and then he simply listens, a silent vigil with his own heart singing so loud that he can barely hear anything else.

*

“Yuzuru.”

Yuzuru whimpers quietly, feeling warm, content and comfortable. The quiet voice at the edge of his consciousness bothers him.

“My prince. Yuzuru.”

A touch to his shoulder and Yuzuru forces himself to open his eyes, blinking in the milky light of morning. He must have fallen asleep at some point during – oh. He remembers, and the warm comfort of just a moment ago evaporates, leaving him with a boulder inside his chest instead. He turns his head and sees the stranger – he looks pale, but he is sleeping soundly. Yuzuru watches the even rise and fall of his chest for a minute. It makes him calmer, even though he knows the real danger is still very much there.

Beside him, Kazuki clears his throat quietly. “I’m sorry to come wake you like this,” the younger elf says uncertainly, and Yuzuru looks up, feeling guilty. Kazuki may be his servant, officially speaking – a position Yuzuru’s father insists on filling despite Yuzuru’s protestations that he does not need one – but to Yuzuru, he is more of a younger friend. And right now, Kazuki looks upset, and it’s Yuzuru’s fault.

“No, I’m sorry,” he says and rises from the bed, careful not to disturb the stranger. He misses the warmth of his body instantly. “What is it, Kazuki?”

“Your father. He sent me to tell you he wants to break fast with you,” Kazuki rushes to tell him.

“Did he say why?” Yuzuru asks. It is not uncommon for his family – his parents, Saya, and him – to take meals together. What is uncommon is the summons.

Kazuki shakes his head, brown eyes large and curious. “No, he did not.”

“Very well,” Yuzuru sighs. He can imagine what his father wants to discuss so urgently as to explicitly request Yuzuru’s presence. Kibe will have had ample time to ring the alarms in all the right ears. Yuzuru glances back towards the bed. He wishes he could stay here. Maybe ignore the terrifying truth of things for a moment longer. Wait for the stranger to wake up. Look into his eyes, ask him his name, then maybe –

He shakes his head. “Will you do me a favor, Ka?” he asks the boy. Something of his weariness and trepidation must show in his face because Kazuki stares at him wide-eyed, then asks:

“Are you quite alright, my prince?”

“Please don’t call me that,” Yuzuru says with a sigh, and rubs at his face. “I am alright, but the night was an eventful one.”

“Alright,” Kazuki nods, though he still looks worried. “How can I help?”

Yuzuru smiles at his young friend’s earnest concern. “Will you stay here, please, and watch him in my stead?” he asks with a glance towards the stranger’s sleeping form.

Kazuki nods immediately and only then remembers to ask: “Who is he? He is a  _ koshiri _ , is he not?”

“He is human, yes,” Yuzuru confirms and is pleased to find no disdain in Kazuki’s expression upon that. Then he bites his lip, pensive. “As to who he is… He is  _ important _ .”

Kazuki’s solemn nod makes Yuzuru feel grateful… and guilty. Grateful that he can leave the stranger with someone he trusts. Guilty because Kazuki does not know the whole truth, is unaware of the taint on the stranger’s skin, spreading across his skin under the bandages.

“Thank you,” he says, and leaves Kazuki with the man.

He realizes he is still in his patrol gear of plain shirt and breeches, stained with blood that is not his, his leather armor still covering his left shoulder and his heart. He exits his cottage through the back door and quickly strips off in the small back garden surrounded by trees and shrubbery, then scrubs himself clean in the pool diverted from the stream running past his dwelling. The water is pleasant, warm inside the pool even though the stream is usually ice-cold – a marvel of Saya’s magical prowess, a recent experiment in her study of waterwork. Under normal circumstances, Yuzuru would be tempted to linger, especially after a night of patrolling the woods around Kenkami. But today, he washes fast, then reenters the cottage to dress appropriately in robes – he is having breakfast with the king, after all, even though the king is his father. He is impatient as he brushes the knots out of his hair, then allows Kazuki to help him re-braid it.

All this hassle… all this time wasted. All he wants to do is speak to his father, give him his version of events – for he is sure Kibe’s telling will be quite different – then return here, to wait for his  _ unmei no hito  _ to come to, so they can begin to figure out what all of this means… and what to do next.

Finally ready, Yuzuru asks Kazuki to send for him immediately should the stranger as much as stir, then sets out towards the king’s chambers.

The morning light is warm and delicate as it filters through the leaves of the tall trees Kenkami is build into and in-between. Normally, Yuzuru would enjoy the birdsong all around, the golden touch of sun on his skin… Instead, his stomach is in knots, growing colder with every step he takes. He cannot shake the feeling that his father will not be pleased to learn Yuzuru has brought a  _ koshiri _ into his home, much less one with a curse of the  _ kurosei _ upon him.

At least his father did not bid him to the audience chamber, Yuzuru thinks when he reaches the king’s halls and one of his father’s servants directs him to his father’s private rooms.

When the servant opens the doors for him, Yuzuru steps in quickly, hoping for a resolution as swift as his arrival.

“Father,” he says, and inclines his head, “you have called for me?”

“Yuzuru,” his father stands from the set table and greets him. Yuzuru feels a flicker of hope. This is not King Takahiro facing him, this is his father. “Please let us sit.”

Yuzuru sinks onto one of the cushions by the low table, folding his legs under him.

“Tea?” his father asks, then pours him a cup when Yuzuru nods. “Please eat,” his father then says, indicating the bowls and platters laid out in front of him. “You look like you need it, after the night you’ve had.”

Yuzuru looks up, and finds his father’s eyes upon him. When his father doesn’t say anything, he forces himself to reach for a bowl of berries and nibbles on a few. He is too wound up to be hungry.

His father seems to approve, though, nodding to himself while Yuzuru eats. When he is done, his father folds his hands in front of him and speaks:

“I hear there has been an incident on your patrol last night.”

“Yes,” Yuzuru says, fighting to remain calm. There is no point denying this; he has no doubt his father already knows all the details from Kibe, all the  _ external  _ details, anyway. “We encountered a man –  _ koshiri –  _ lost in our woods. Kibe attacked him well before it was advisable to do so.”

His father looks at him, eyes inscrutable. Yuzuru holds his gaze. His father has always taught him that eyes are the windows into your soul – and you do not want to let people see weakness when they peer inside.

“Kibe mentioned that the man carries a mark of the kurosei,” his father says, calm as if this was nothing more than a regular chat over breakfast. As if Yuzuru’s life – or at least his happiness, his blessing, his destiny – did not depend on the outcome of this talk.

He considers lying then, or at least obscuring the truth. In the end, he decides against it, but stays silent, waiting for his father’s next words.

“You have brought him here,” his father states. It is not a question, because his father of course already knows this, too.

“Yes,” Yuzuru admits, and watches as his father’s eyes harden a fraction. Suddenly, faced with the weight of the many centuries in those eyes, and wisdom collected throughout time, Yuzuru feels very young, like a colt shivering out in the storm, alone and lost. He does not let his father see this, or he hopes he does not. “He is injured. He is innocent,” he plunges ahead, proud that his voice remains steady. He takes a deep breath. “I would ask you to shelter him, father.”

His father’s eyes widen in disbelief, and Yuzuru struggles not to flinch. This is it. The moment in which his destiny will be decided. “He is doomed.”

Yuzuru opens his mouth to speak, but his father holds up a hand.

“You know I cannot shelter him. Not against the  _ kurosei _ . We have a treaty. His soul is forfeit.”

“Father –“ Yuzuru begins, and now his voice does quiver, his calm mask cracking.

“Let it go, Yuzuru,” his father says, a little softer. “He is just a  _ koshiri _ . I know you feel for them, but this man’s destiny is sealed.”

“He is  _ my _ destiny,” Yuzuru mutters, and feels his heart swell up with that knowledge.

“What is that?” his father asks, the elegant curves of his eyebrows shooting up.

Yuzuru looks up, and steels himself. “He is my destiny, and I am his,” he says, louder this time. “ _ Unmei no hito _ .”

He expects surprise. Disbelief. Maybe even anger. Instead, his father shakes his head and lets out a soft laugh.

“You are young and foolish still, my son,” he says and the lightness of his voice, the  _ dismissal,  _ sparks wild flames inside Yuzuru’s chest. His father laughs – he  _ laughs _ – as if this didn’t even matter, as if he did not even consider Yuzuru mature enough to know what he is feeling, as if this man, this stranger, was no more than a moth to be brushed away…

“You will not shelter him?” Yuzuru asks, harsher than he intended, and he stares at his father in challenge. He can’t keep the anger at bay, wild and raw, fueled by fear.

His father’s amusement disappears as quickly as it had come. He fixes Yuzuru with a stare. “Yuzuru,” he says, “There is nothing to be gained.”

Nothing to be gained. Nothing, but the  _ consummate happiness _ he has heard men and women alike speak of in reverent tones. Nothing, but the rarest of gifts, the fullest of experiences.

“Please.” The word is out before Yuzuru can control it. He would be ashamed… but he is not beneath begging because despite what his father may think, this matters. There is everything to be gained. Yuzuru knows this as he knows the palm of his own hand, the feel of his bow inside it.

“I tell you this as your father, not as your King,” his father sighs. “Let this foolishness go.”

Yuzuru won’t. He wouldn’t even if he could. He shakes his head.

His father’s expression sobers. “Will you make me order you?”

Yuzuru doesn’t answer, just schools himself to level his gaze, squares his jaw.

“So be it. As your king, I order you to let this stranger go the way he came. He may remain here until his immediate injury heals, but after that, he is to leave Kenkami, and take his darkness with him.”

Yuzuru swallows and stands up. “So be it,” he grinds out, curling his hands into fists by his sides. His nails cut into his palms, red crescents blooming on his pale flesh. “As a citizen of Kenkami, I refuse to accept your order, my king, and request a full council audience on this matter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as you may have guessed, Elvish here is based on Japanese - and I hereby apologize to any Japanese-savvy readers, I mean no offense by borrowing from your language! All credit for invented words goes to @MsDaring (who is one of those Japanese-savvy people) - thank you! 
> 
> The words you'll encounter throughout this story: 
> 
> * _koshiri_ \- Elvish name for human, comes from the Japanese words _koshi_ (withering/dying) and _ri_ (being, person) 
> 
> * _shirosei_ \- Elvish name for light elves, comes from the Japanese words _shiro_ (light) and _sei_ (spirit, fairy, energy, vitality) 
> 
> * _kurosei_ \- Elvish name for dark elves, comes from the words _kuro_ (dark) and _sei_ (spirit, fairy, energy, vitality) 
> 
> * _unmei no hito_ \- _unmei_ (fate), _no_ (posessive article), _hito_ (person).  
This is a concept that exists in many East Asian countries, based on the Chinese legend of [Red Thread of Fate](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_thread_of_fate). The thread of fate is believed to connect two people who are destined to be together, similar to the concept of soulmates.


	4. An Unexpected Guest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuun...

Javi wakes up, blinks his eyes open, feeling slow and rested. _ Rested _ , he thinks and isn’t that a marvelous thing. The light around him is soft and filtered, the bed he’s lying on impossibly soft, a feathery pillow under his head, like lying on a cloud. Javi wonders if he is dreaming. This is not a place he knows. There is a canopy above him, some silky fabric of pale periwinkle blue stirring in a light breeze.

He feels woozy and slow, and it is not a bad feeling. He moves to push himself upright, and gasps as a sharp, unexpected pain shoots through his shoulder.

Oh –  _ oh _ . Javi suddenly remembers. The dark forest, his panic, the arrow… The clearing. The moonlight. The –

A palm on his good shoulder, gently pressing him back down into the cushions. “Rest,” Javi hears, a soft melodic voice that staves off his mounting agitation.

Then Javi sees the voice’s owner leaning over him, and promptly forgets everything else.

“I thought you were a dream,” he whispers as he takes in the dark eyes, the spill of obsidian hair, the hint of a smile in the most arresting face Javi has ever seen.

The smile blossoms fully, the man’s eyes sparkling, and Javi feels like he is floating. He raises his hand to reach out, to make sure the man is real, that he will not disappear. A hand meets his halfway, palm to palm, the man’s slender fingers delicate under Javi’s. A shock of excitement vibrates through Javi at the touch and his breath catches.

“You’re real,” he manages. “Who are you?” he then asks, his heartbeat rapid inside his chest. He needs to know the man’s name, so he can remember it for as long as he lives.

The man’s smile brightens, and he turns his head slightly sideways, a light blush on his cheeks.

“An elf!” Javi gasps in sudden remembrance when he spots the way the man’s ears taper to a sharp point. He had glimpsed that last night, just before the arrow took him down.

He stares at the delicate shell of the elf’s ear, at the multiple silver ear-rings adorning it, at the small tendrils of hair tucked behind it. Javi touches his chest with his free hand, and feels the cold there, the black mark living under what seems to be clean bandages. He realizes he should be scared – an  _ elf _ , and doesn’t he carry an elven curse?! But he doesn’t feel any fear. In fact, a sense of comfort, of belonging, seems to have settled inside him. The elf’s hand is warm, and Javi closes his fingers around it, holding on tight. There is no evil here, he is certain.

The elf chuckles a little. “That is true,” he confirms, his eyelashes black against the startling alabaster of his skin when he looks down at their joined hands. “My name is Yuzuru,” he adds, and meets Javi’s eyes once again.

Yuzuru. Javi wants to taste the name in his mouth, wrap his tongue around it.

“I’m Javi,” he says instead, remembering his manners. “Where are we?”

“In Kenkami,” Yuzuru says. “An elven settlement just south of the Wasagate river,” he adds at Javi’s confused face. “You call the river  _ Lucent _ , I believe, in your tongue. We are about a league away from it.”

Javi nods, trying and failing to remember the maps he had used during his ranging days. Back then, he had been more interested in the regions south of Tillo, not up north where he is now – not many opportunities for a sword for hire, here, with few towns and villages. He had never ridden as far north, in fact. Javi frowns, remembering why he was riding north in the first place, the desperation that chased him, the death he is bringing to everyone around him… 

“You’re safe here,” Yuzuru tells him gently. Then his expression darkens. “I am so sorry about that,” he says with a headshake, gesturing towards Javi’s chest. “One of my kin acted rashly and loosed an arrow where he shouldn’t have,” Yuzuru says, something dark flashing in his eyes. “Please accept my sincere apologies… Javi.” Yuzuru’s voice catches at his name the slightest bit and Javi feels it tug at his heart, the way his name sounds from Yuzuru’s mouth.

“It was an accident,” Javi says, even though judging by the angry glint in Yuzuru’s eyes, it was anything but.

“Our healer says your shoulder should recover swiftly,” Yuzuru says. For a moment, it looks as if he’s going to touch Javi’s chest, but then he stops himself. “We have salves, and spells…,” he trails off, and Javi wonders what Laura would say to this. Healing with magic was something she had never believed in.  _ Leave the mumbo-jumbo to Galen _ , she would always say. “You will be alright soon.”

And just like that, Javi realizes that maybe – maybe he has found the solution to his most pressing problem. He did sleep well, and he feels lighter, warmer, like this curse has lost its power over him a little…

“Can you heal the other thing, too?” he asks, hopeful. He motions towards his chest. “The black mark, the… the curse.” Could it really be so easy? He had never believed he would find elves, get any answers, and yet here he is, talking with Yuzuru, who is an elf…

Javi’s hope evaporates the moment he sees Yuzuru’s pained expression. “No,” Yuzuru says quietly. “We cannot. It is… it is complicated. This mark, it was given to you by the  _ kurosei _ ,” Yuzuru continues, then adds, clearly for Javi’s benefit: “Our dark kin, Dark Elves. They are – distant, from who we are.”

Javi begins to nod. He had accepted his fate before he rode out. It had been too good to be true, thinking that it could be solved so easily.

“I’m sorry,” Yuzuru ads, and his voice is so full of pain that Javi can’t stop himself. He reaches out, touches his hand to Yuzuru’s chin, brushing his fingers along the incredibly soft skin before he drops his hand again.

“It’s alright, Yuzuru,” Javi says, and the name tastes just as sweet as he had thought it would, exotic and perfect. Then, even though it scares him, he forces himself to state the truth: “I will die, I know.”

Yuzuru’s eyes snap up at that, and something ignites in them, something wild and powerful. “You will not die. I will not let that happen.” He squeezes Javi’s hand. “Destiny sent you my way. I am not letting you go.”

Javi blinks, taken aback by the fierce passion in Yuzuru’s words, and also confused. “Destiny?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow. He thinks he sees Yuzuru blush once again. Absentmindedly, he wonders what those cheeks would look like flushed with pleasure, rather than embarrassment or anger… He bats the thought away. It really is not the place.

Yuzuru looks back at him, and his expression softens. “ _ Unmei no hito _ ,” he whispers, unbearably soft. His hand twitches in Javi’s.

“What is that?” Javi asks, intrigued. He feels the pull in these words, as if they were begging him closer, inviting him in. It is the same pull he feels to be closer to Yuzuru, irrational as it seems.

“Just something we say,” Yuzuru says, biting his lip, and Javi wonders if he is being lied to. “Just a phrase that – “

“Yuzuru!” the door on the other side of the cottage flies open. Javi starts, then hisses when pain spills through his injured shoulder. A young woman has just burst inside, and Javi blinks. His eyes skip from Yuzuru, sitting on the edge of the bed, to the woman. It’s like looking at two sides of the same precious coin, both shining and beautiful. But while looking at Yuzuru makes him feel like he will never get enough of the sight, the woman he can look at, conclude she truly is quite a beauty, and move on, unaffected. The woman says something in a language Javi doesn’t understand, but he hears the urgency in her tone.

“Saya, what’s going on?” Yuzuru says, getting up.

The woman – Saya – gives Yuzuru a confused look, then she spots Javi. “Oh,” she says. Then she switches to the common tongue. “As I was saying, brother, you will never believe who just announced themselves at the Northern gate!”

“Do tell me, then,” Yuzuru asks, his voice weary. He seems tired, like he is not in the mood for the conversation.

“A rider from the  _ kurosei _ ! The last time I have seen one was when you could barely pull a bow. I wonder what they want from us this time!”

Saya sounds surprised, almost excited, about the prospect of an unexpected visitor. Javi watches Yuzuru’s face, however, and he sees the change in his demeanor – where a moment ago he seemed irritated by the intrusion, tired, now there is a sharpness about him, a keen interest. At Saya’s last words, his eyes flicker back to Javi – their gazes briefly collide and Javi shivers at the expression on Yuzuru’s face. He looks scared.

“Oh – oooh! Oh, brother – what is – is this why father was so angry this morning?” Saya says, and Javi has a feeling that a whole another conversation between her and Yuzuru takes place without words, just in the look the two siblings share.

Yuzuru says something in Elvish, and Javi would marvel at the lilting foreignness of the words, if only the tone was not so sinister. There is only one word he catches, one Yuzuru had mentioned before, one that Saya had repeated just a moment ago.

“Wait, did you say  _ kurosei?”  _ Javi pipes up, his head swimming. He’s still slow from sleep, his shoulder hurts, and the curse is still there, sapping his energy, even though it is somehow milder… It’s a struggle to catch up. “Isn’t that –“

Yuzuru turns to him, and Javi feels like a gaping fool once again. Something in Yuzuru’s face yanks at Javi’s heart – it’s not only the beauty, even though that takes Javi’s breath away, the way the pale blue tunic Yuzuru is wearing seems to make his skin glow, the way his eyes seem to be full of dark fire. It’s more than that, a sense of  _ knowing _ that he will never meet anyone quite like this ever again, that this is right, somehow, him to be here, in Yuzuru’s company.

“I must go, Javi,” Yuzuru says, and steps closer to the bed once again to reach for Javi’s hand. “Please stay here, rest – “ 

“But the dark elves – “ Javi interrupts. Yuzuru’s face twists, and Javi sees the sudden panic in his eyes.

“Exactly. The dark elves. Please promise me you will stay here. You’re safe here,” Yuzuru pleads, and Javi finds himself nodding despite everything. “I will do what I can to – “ Yuzuru seems at a loss for words at that, just gesturing towards Javi’s chest, the mark that sits there, silent, waiting, growing.

And even though a part of Javi wants nothing more than to confront his own problems face-on, he finds he trusts Yuzuru. It’s ridiculous, it’s probably naïve. They have just barely met. But inside his heart, Javi can’t help but feel like he  _ knows _ him. Like his soul has known him for a very long time, indeed. And so he just nods, and squeezes Yuzuru’s hand, then reluctantly lets go. 

*

Javi is not sure how much time has passed. He had fallen back asleep some time after Yuzuru’s departure, fitful this time, the now familiar darkness lapping at the edges of his consciousness. He’s lying on the bed studying the spreading network of black lines on his chest when the door opens, a light draft stirring the translucent curtains of the canopy.

Javi moves to sit up abruptly, oddly excited about Yuzuru’s return, worried about the news he might bring… He cries out as pain shoots through his shoulder. He had completely forgotten the wound again. 

“Careful there, be careful.” The elf in the door is not Yuzuru and Javi notes the disappointment he feels upon this realization. The elf’s hair is a snowy white, and even though his face bears few signs of age, Javi can still somehow tell that he is significantly older than Yuzuru and his sister.

Javi exhales and carefully lets himself sink back, resting against the pillows half-seated. “I forgot,” he mumbles. “It was not hurting while I was lying down.”

The man smiles. “That is good.” He sits in the chair next to the bed. “I am glad to hear that my salves are working well.”

“Your salves?” Javi lifts his eyebrows, surprised. “Are you – “

“My name is Akira. I am a healer,” the man says simply.

Javi looks at the elf, at his calming demeanor, and suddenly is reminded of Laura, of how soothing she can be with her patients, how endlessly patient. He misses her.

“Thank you,” Javi says, and gestures towards his wounded shoulder. “I might have died without your help, I think,” he adds, recalling how Laura would rant about festered wounds, and sepsis, and about how even a non-mortal hit could kill you. Javi had once tried to shrug off her care after returning home from one of his ranging journeys with a cut up thigh, something too small in his opinion to merit such fuss. After that lecture full of gross details, Javi wouldn’t think of refusing care ever again.

Akira nods, but not before adding: “You might have died if Yuzuru had not decided to be reckless and break every one of Kenkami’s rules to bring you here.”

Javi stares at him. “Wait, why – why would he do that?” He is not sure which rules the elf is referring to but judging by the way his brows furrow, whatever Yuzuru did seems to be a grave offense.

Akira shrugs. “I’m afraid I do not know why the prince does the things he does. I’m sure he has his reasons.”

Javi’s mind fills with yet more questions – a prince? Why would Yuzuru risk all this for him? He doesn’t even know him! But then Javi remembers how he had felt earlier today, looking at Yuzuru – like he is special, like Javi  _ knows _ him, like he can trust him… Could it be that Yuzuru feels the same? The thought that wins out and leaves his mouth, however, is a somber one.

“It was all a waste, though, wasn’t it,” he pats his chest, the spreading blackness. “I will die anyway.”

Akira only looks at him, and Javi thinks he sees sorrow in those eyes that look way more ancient than the rest of the elf’s face.

“Would you, maybe, explain this all to me?” Javi says before Akira has a chance to speak. He does not want to hear the response. The elf certainly seems relieved at having avoided the awkwardness of having to confirm the fact that Javi is doomed. “This thing, the  _ kurosei _ , the… the curse? I just want to know why I’m dying.”

* 

The audience chamber feels chilly despite the warm summer day. Yuzuru is not sure if the chill is his own, his own fear clutching at him with a clammy hand, or if the cold just permanently clings to the stones of the palace. 

His father’s council members - the three of them who dwell in Kenkami - have already gathered. They nod at Yuzuru when he enters, greeting him the way they would on any other day. They have not heard Kibe’s story yet, then, otherwise Yuzuru is sure the atmosphere would be rather different. An audience with a  _ kurosei _ representative is unusual and unsettling enough… Yuzuru can imagine the direction things might turn once they learn that, essentially, this is all Yuzuru’s fault. For now, he greets the two men and one woman politely, as does Saya, and hopes for their benevolence once his own audience is due. He and Saya then part to take their respective seats on the benches on either side of their father’s throne. 

Yuzuru has always disliked attending royal audiences, feeling out of place, infinitely young among the elder council members. He still feels this way now, uncomfortable, but the knowledge that Javi’s safety depends on him now helps him steel himself.

When his father enters and takes his throne, Yuzuru doesn’t flinch, doesn’t spare him more than the expected bow, keeping himself proud and strong in his seat. He will face whatever he needs to - the council members, his father, the dark elf… even if he has to fight them all single-handed, he knows that he will.

“Please admit our visitor,” the King announces, and a servant runs out of the doors, returning moments later. 

“Honored Daisuke, envoy of Queen Midori of the kurosei,” the servant announces, bowing his head as the dark elf enters. The  _ kurosei’s  _ walk is brisk as he strides to the center of the chamber, his sword bobbing at his hip, his chest covered in black leather armor. He looks ready for battle, even as he bows stiffly, paying his respects to the King. 

“King Takahiro,” he says when he straightens up. His kohl-lined eyes are sharp. “I thank you for your hospitality and appreciate that you have taken time to hear me out at such short notice.” The dark elf – Daisuke – does not sound like a mere foot-soldier, Yuzuru realizes, not a mere messenger, but rather someone used to speaking from a position of power. 

Yuzuru’s father nods magnanimously, gestures for Daisuke to go on.

“As I am certain you are aware, a treaty between the  _ shirosei _ ,” he inclines his head towards the king, the council members, “and the  _ kurosei _ has existed for many generations. The signing of the treaty by kings Teshima and Hagiwara of our two people has ensured centuries upon centuries of truce.”

Daisuke makes a dramatic pause. “I have reason to believe that the conditions of the treaty may be in danger.”

The council members stir at this, exchanging uneasy glances. Yuzuru does not know the exact conditions of the treaty, not every line in the thick volumes documenting it, not in the detail he is sure these elders do. He does not need to know the minutiae, however, to know he is in deep trouble. But he knew that already, had known it the moment he had yelled at Kibe to help him get Javi onto Kōri. One could argue, perhaps, that it had been a moment of distress, that he had not been thinking clearly as he rode towards Kenkami, Javi’s limp form cradled close to his chest. But Yuzuru knows that he would do it again, even in cold reason. He would decide to do this, save Javi, risk everything for the small chance that he might be able to somehow protect him from his dark fate. There is no other way.

Saya shoots him a look across the chamber, her eyes wide and alarmed.

She had asked him, while they were waiting for the summons to the audience, why this human was so important, and what about his presence made their father so angry.  _ He’s my unmei no hito _ , Yuzuru had whispered, and that had made Saya swoon… and conveniently forget the other part of her question. Now she stares at him, and Yuzuru can’t bear to see the terror in her eyes, and so he ducks his head, studying his hands where they lay folded in his lap.

He feels the thread of destiny almost like a physical bond now, one that had sprung into existence the moment he had first laid his eyes on Javi, and has now begun to grow, the first threads of a complex latticework between them. He wishes he could be elsewhere now, back at his cottage with Javi, finding out more, learning who he is, where he came from, what his favorite food is, and does he like the scent of rain?

His father’s voice tears him from his thoughts. “What makes you say so?”

Yuzuru looks up in time to see the dark elf’s wry smile. “I believe Kenkami is sheltering a subject who, as per the treaty, belongs to the  _ kurosei _ .”

“He doesn’t  _ belong  _ to anybody,” Yuzuru hisses, speaking before he realizes what he is doing, the thought out and too loud despite being ground out from between clenched teeth. He immediately knows it was a mistake to open his mouth, doesn’t need his father’s glare to realize that he has once again displeased him. His anger feels hot inside him, however, born of fear and exhaustion and the knowledge that he will rather die than let the  _ kurosei _ claim Javi.

It is ridiculous. He barely knows the  _ koshiri _ , they have barely spoken, barely touched… It  _ would _ be ridiculous if Yuzuru was not sure, more sure than he has ever been of anything in his life, that this is right and true. The few words, the warm brown eyes on his, and the way Javi had held his hand and touched his face had been proof enough… as if he had even needed proof! This is everything. And Yuzuru will fight.

Daisuke turns to look at him, frowning, considering. Then he shrugs, turns back to the king, clearly deeming Yuzuru’s outburst irrelevant. Yuzuru grits his teeth, glares.

“Your Grace?” the dark elf asks, calm, composed. Cold like the ice and snow in the mountains where the  _ kurosei _ dwell.

“The  _ koshiri _ who bears your mark is here,” the king says. Yuzuru hears the gasps of the council members seated on Saya’s side, the rustle of their clothes as they move to talk to one another in hushed tones. He can feel their eyes upon him, but doesn’t look at them, staring at his father instead.

Daisuke opens his mouth to speak again, but Yuzuru’s father holds up a hand.

“He is here. Citizen Yuzuru,” now his father indicates him, calling him  _ citizen _ , not  _ my son _ , not even  _ prince,  _ “ – has pleaded for Kenkami to shelter the man. He has requested a full council audience on the matter. Once the council gathers, we will decide,” his father finishes, as stern as Yuzuru has ever seen him.

The dark elf glances at Yuzuru once again, pursing his lips. Then he nods slowly, returning his attention to Yuzuru’s father. “May I ask when you expect the council meeting to take place, King Takahiro?”

His father nods. “Summons have been sent to the council members who reside outside Kenkami. The journey from the most distant settlement should take no longer than three days.”

Daisuke nods at that. “Three days,” he repeats. “I shall await the council’s decision.”

The words are like a plunge into cold water. Three days. If Yuzuru’s appeal is declined, and Yuzuru doesn’t come up with a plan in the meantime, Javi has three days left to live.


	5. A Night of Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beautiful art by [@MsDaring](https://www.instagram.com/kakimashouu/), as always.

Yuzuru rubs at his eyes and glances at the mess of books and scrolls he had brought back to his cottage from Kenkami’s library. He has no idea how many hours have passed since he left his father’s audience chamber, with Saya running after him, asking questions he had no answers to.

“I need a plan, Saya,” he had finally cried out when they were out of sight of the king’s halls. “I need a – What if the council – “ his breath had failed him then, and he had stood there panting, panicked and terrified. Had Saya not been there, Yuzuru thinks he would have just crumpled down onto the ground for a moment, to just cry and rage at the unfairness of it all.

“Oh brother,” she had said, her face full of sorrow as she stood there, letting him lean into her, running a hand down his back. “Breathe, Yuzuru,” she had said and then: “We’re going to the library now to learn everything we can. I’ll help you.”

And that is how he ended up here, at his desk, squinting at old parchment, turning the pages of tomes that look like they may disintegrate if he is not careful. Yuzuru looks out the window and realizes that night has almost fallen outside, that that is likely why not even his sharp eyesight cannot keep up anymore. It has been almost peaceful, getting lost in the pages, Javi’s even breathing a constant, soothing presence in the background. 

Or it would have been peaceful had he not felt a cold knot of anxiety inside his stomach this whole time. There is death hanging above them like a dark cloud, and Yuzuru feels impotent. This is all he can do – read everything he can about the Dark Elves, learn the finest details of the treaty, see if he can find a loophole. Something, anything, that could save Javi’s life should the council reject his plea.

No matter how hard he tries to suppress it, there is a gnawing fear that that is exactly what is going to happen. That the councilors will recoil, refuse, reject. Tell him that they have to protect the interests of many, that his own interest – no matter how desperate –matters little in the greater scheme of things.

_ He’s just a koshiri _ , he had heard one of the already present councilors whisper at the end of the audience. As if the fact that Javi is not one of the elvenkind made him irrelevant, dispensable. It makes his blood boil, makes him want to scream. But he can’t. All he can do is wait and hope that he and Saya come up with something in the painfully brief period of time available to them.

With a sigh, he stands up from his desk, stretching his arms above his head to relieve the pressure that has accumulated in his neck and shoulders. He lights a lamp, then turns back to look at where Javi is sleeping on his bed –

Except Javi is not sleeping, not anymore. His eyes are open and he’s looking at Yuzuru, and when their eyes meet, Javi’s mouth turns up a fraction.

“You’re back,” he mumbles, and his voice sounds muffled and sleepy, and Yuzuru wants to hug him. “I’m sorry, I fell asleep again after Akira left,” Javi says, rubbing at his eyes as he sits up on the bed.

“How are you feeling?” Yuzuru asks and steps closer, sits on the edge of the bed.

“Better,” Javi says, and smiles. “I hadn’t been able to sleep this well since – well, you know,” he says, patting his chest. “I sleep better when you are here,” he adds, then clamps his mouth shut so obviously Yuzuru wants to laugh.

“I’m glad you’re resting,” he says instead, and stops himself before he can reach out to touch Javi’s face, surprised at how strong the impulse is.

“I promise I am usually more fun,” Javi jokes, and Yuzuru does laugh this time, feeling warmth inside his stomach when Javi joins in. For a sweet moment, he feels carefree and joyous, as if nothing else mattered but this.

“I can’t wait to see,” he blurts, then blushes because who is he to assume Javi would want the things that Yuzuru wants – to spend time together, to find out just what Javi considers  _ fun _ , to learn all the little quirks that make him who he is.

“Me too,” Javi says, though, and it’s him who reaches out, touching Yuzuru’s hand, running a careful thumb over his knuckles.

Yuzuru’s stomach chooses that moment to growl, and he makes a face, looks away embarrassed. He had forgotten to eat during the day, hunger the least of his concerns, and the few berries he had had for breakfast now feel an awfully long time ago.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. “It’s been a long day, I sort of… forgot,” he gives a little shrug, then remembers something: “Are you hungry? Spirits, they did – I’m so sorry – they did bring you food?”

Javi laughs a little at that, and gives Yuzuru’s hand a squeeze. “Akira sent a boy – or well, I think he was younger? You’re all so…” Javi shakes his head, smiling, gesturing vaguely at Yuzuru’s face. “All of you look surreal, kind of. I mean, you specifically – “ Javi starts, then bites his lip, blushing. “Anyways, I did get food. It was really good, too. But I could eat. I can always eat, you know?” he adds with another small chuckle, and Yuzuru smiles, quite caught up in the way Javi’s cheek dimples a little when he does that.

“I can’t,” he admits. At Javi’s scandalized face, he adds: “But I will bring us food, don’t worry.”

*

He doesn’t send Kazuki to fetch food for them, instead venturing out to the palace kitchen himself, feeling like the short walk might help him clear his head, rest his eyes. He gives the king’s dining hall a wide berth, preferring to sneak into the kitchens through the back, then lets the cook scold him for eating too little, the way she has been doing since he was a child.

When she sends him back with a basket full of food, Yuzuru can almost pretend that this is just a normal day, taking in the scents and sounds of the summer night as he walks. The moment he slips back into his cottage, and catches Javi’s smile, he feels as if a cocoon of calm enveloped him for a precious moment. It is nice to have someone to share a cottage with, to share a meal like this.

“Can you sit?” Yuzuru inquires after depositing his basket on his desk, having carefully cleared the books and scrolls away.

Javi nods. “I think I can. Those salves – they must be magic,” he says, moving his shoulder carefully as he stands up. He wobbles a little, and Yuzuru moves to wrap an arm around his waist. “Well, maybe not quite so magic,” Javi laughs breathlessly, and leans into Yuzuru. He is warm against Yuzuru’s side, and wonderfully real - wonderfully, blessedly alive, so different from last night.

“Akira is not quite a mage,” Yuzuru says. “He is a very good healer, however.”

Javi only nods, then sits down with a small wince. “My sister would like him,” he adds. “She is also a healer.”

Yuzuru does not miss the sudden sadness in his voice but before he can open his mouth to say something, Javi goes on.

“This smells nice,” Javi comments.

“Tastes good, too,” Yuzuru says, “Stew and herbed fish,” he points out the dishes.

“I like fish,” Javi smiles, thinking. “I once ate some at the coast, though, and that was the best fish in the world.”

“I’ve never been to the coast,” Yuzuru admits, wistful. He has always longed to see the sea, and the lands beyond, and so many other places he has only read about. Sadly, being the king’s heir means he cannot roam the world the way he would like, even if elvenkind did travel as much as they once had… “Is the sea as beautiful as they say?” he asks.

“I don’t know what they say,” Javi smiles, spooning some stew into his mouth. “But it is lovely. It’s endless, and sort of – makes you feel small, if you know what I mean?”

Yuzuru nods. “The stars make me feel small,” he says. “I would like to see the sea,” he says, trying to imagine the glittering expanse of water, the white crests of waves he has read descriptions of.

“Maybe we can go someday,” Javi says, smiling. Then his smile dims. “I mean –,” he glances down at his chest.

Yuzuru hates it, the way the light seems to go out of him, the way the comfortable warmth seems to seep out of the cottage right there and then.

“Javi,” he says, and Javi looks up, and Yuzuru feels destiny’s grip around his heart once again, a beautiful thing, a terrifying thing. “We will find a way,” he promises. “I was doing some reading – “ he gestures towards the books and scrolls, now abandoned. “It’s about the  _ kurosei.  _ Saya – my sister – and I are trying to learn as much as we can to find a way to fix this,” he glances at Javi’s chest, the black latticework spread out over his skin. Javi’s gaze follows, dipping down to his own skin, the curse writ large upon his body. “I will do anything it takes,” Yuzuru whispers. “Anything.”

Javi looks back up at him, and his eyes are wide, and maybe a bit moist. “Why are you doing this? Akira said you did some things that caused trouble for you… You don’t have to help me.”

“I do,” Yuzuru says, then adds: “I want to.”

Javi holds his eyes and Yuzuru feels vulnerable under that gaze – so full of sadness, and yet maybe with a tiny flicker of hope. “Why?” Javi asks quietly. Yuzuru considers lying, coming up with some vague excuse, afraid he may scare Javi. However, he finds he doesn’t want to tell Javi half-truths.

“There is a thing we believe in,” Yuzuru starts, not even sure how to explain. Do the  _ koshiri _ even believe in such things? Will Javi think he is crazy? “ _ Unmei no hito _ .”

“You mentioned that before, earlier today,” Javi nods, listening intently.

“It means – in your tongue I think you would say  _ person of destiny _ ?” Yuzuru says, then swallows, feeling nervous. “It means that – there is a person out there for you, not for everyone, just… sometimes it happens. A companion, someone destiny intended for you, someone you can find such love and happiness with…” he trails off, biting his lip. Javi is wearing a thoughtful expression, looking down at his hands. Has he gone too far? He supposes it must sound unbelievable to someone who has not grown up hearing stories the way Yuzuru has. He forces himself to go on, quickly: “I know it sounds silly, but – “

“ _ Almagemela,”  _ Javi whispers, a word Yuzuru does not understand. But when Javi lifts his eyes, they are full of wonder. “I thought I was just imagining things,” he says, and his voice is incredibly soft, his smile even softer, and Yuzuru’s heart flutters in a way he didn’t think was possible, all light and sweet and so, so delightful, like butterflies in spring, like the quiver of a leaf in the gentlest breeze.

“It makes sense now,” Javi continues, pensive, and Yuzuru wonders just what has been on Javi’s mind. “I feel like – “ he begins, but doesn’t go on, reaching instead for Yuzuru’s hand across the table.

Yuzuru lets him hold his hand, lets him twine their fingers together, palms touching. It’s nothing… and yet it is everything, the way Javi holds his hand like he is precious.

“I want to help you. I want to  _ know _ you,” Yuzuru says, hopeful – that there is a way, that fate will make a way… “We’ll find a way,” he repeats. This time, when Javi looks up at him, it seems like he actually believes it. 

*

Javi feels like he is floating. Which, considering that he is currently seated in the most glorious little pool of water he has ever been in, is quite close to the truth. He had asked for a ewer of water, or something of the kind, so he could wash up a little. Yuzuru had smiled enigmatically and helped him out through the other door leading out of his cottage, to this back-garden with the stars above and a pool full of magically warm water.

“It’s magic, isn’t it?” Javi asks now, leaning back against the edge of the pond, staring up at the sky. He’s careful not to soak his healing wound in the water, but the rest of his body is submerged, and even though the spidery curse is still there, Javi feels at rest, at peace.

He hears Yuzuru smile, turns his head to catch a glimpse of his face. “It is magic,” he confirms from where he’s sitting at the edge of the pool, dangling his calves and feet in the water. He had helped Javi to the edge of the pool, wrapped a deceptively strong arm around Javi to help him lower himself in, but had turned away modestly when Javi had stripped the thin breeches he had been wearing so he could bathe properly.

“You know, I always made up stories for the kids in our village,” Javi starts, smiling at the fond memory. “We’d gather by a bonfire sometimes, on summer evenings, and I would tell the children of my adventures.” He chuckles. “Well, they were hardly that adventurous, but kids like that kind of story, swords and travel, all that.”

Yuzuru smiles again, stirring up the water with his feet. “I like all that, too,” he says gently, and Javi fights the urge to grin.

“I’d add magic to the stories, too. I didn’t actually think magic like this was real,” he says, and shakes his head in quiet wonder, trailing his hand through the warm pool. “I’d add dragons, of course, too. Kids love dragons. And elves. Fairytale things, you know –,“ he stops there, realizes his blunder. He feels his cheeks heat up. “Um. I’d never seen an elf before, so I thought… not that I think you’re a fairytale now, of course,” he adds hastily, babbling. “Well, you look like one but –“ Damn. Javi bites his lip. He had not meant to say it out loud, though of course it’s true, but it sounds stupid and he should probably apologize…

Yuzuru laughs. A pleased, real, tinny kind of laugh that goes straight to Javi’s belly, spreading warmth inside him. He likes making Yuzuru laugh, he realizes. He would spend his life making him laugh. And so he doesn’t apologize because anything that makes this beautiful person laugh, no matter how embarrassing for Javi, cannot be wrong.

“It is my sister’s doing,” Yuzuru says eventually. “The pond. She’s an apprentice now but she will be a great mage,” he explains.

“My sister is a healer,” Javi offers. “I think I mentioned it? She’s really good. Like Akira. Minus the magic,” he adds, and tilts his head back to wink at Yuzuru. Javi cannot quite believe how easy this feels – just sitting here, talking like they have known each other for a long while instead of only a few hours. He cannot quite believe Yuzuru, either. He’s stripped off his fancy robe and is sitting there in his breeches and shirt, barefoot, so simple – and yet, just like that first glimpse last night, it’s enough to take Javi’s breath away, the way his skin seems to glow in the starlight, the way his lips curl in a smile, the way his eyes glimmer like black gems.

Yuzuru smirks a little now, and Javi realizes he’s been staring. He averts his eyes.

“Do people – humans, I mean – often come this way?” he asks, changing the topic to distract himself. 

“No,” Yuzuru says and leans forward a bit to dip his hands into the water. “You are the first in a long time,” he adds and Javi realizes that he likes that. “I have not seen one of your kind in a while.”

“Hmm,” Javi says. “I guess that makes me special?” he jokes, hoping to hear that laugh again.

Instead, Yuzuru inclines his head, swishes his hand through the water a little. “You are,” he says, and when he looks at Javi to rather obviously study his face, his chest, his arms, Javi preens, feeling tingly all over under that gaze.

“Do you like us humans, then?” he asks, a little smug, a little playful, emboldened by the darkness, the soothing water, the knowledge that Yuzuru had shared with him earlier.  _ Person of destiny _ , he thinks, and there is comfort in that thought. Despite everything, knowing that he is somehow special to Yuzuru makes Javi feel stronger, better.

“I like  _ you, _ ” Yuzuru says quietly, and those dark eyes suddenly burn into Javi’s. He feels a flash of heat, a tug deep in the pit of his stomach.

“Do you want to come in?” he asks, voice thick with a longing he had not been expecting, surprising himself by his own forthrightness.

The silence that follows is a tense one, and Javi feels it nearly as if it was a physical string between them, tight and waiting to be plucked. He’s about to apologize for being too greedy, for assuming too much, when Yuzuru gives a quick nod, and pulls off first his shirt, and then, upon some consideration, the rest of his clothes.

Javi tries not to stare, and it’s only a second before Yuzuru is in the water, but the expanse of pale, smooth skin he glimpses in that moment makes his breath catch in a way he’s not experienced before. He’s been with people before, girls, and the occasional man, and he’s done way more than see them undress, and yet it has felt nothing like this. Like he  _ needs  _ to touch lest he burn up, like he wants to reach out and never let go. He restrains himself, though, and watches instead as Yuzuru unbraids his hair, lets it fall loose and long around his shoulders, the ends of it pooling around him like black water lilies.

“I like water,” Yuzuru says absentmindedly, but his eyes never leave Javi’s, and Javi knows he is thinking of the same thing he is thinking of, not of water, or anything else.

Then Yuzuru moves, his hand to Javi’s face, his fingertips brushing Javi’s ear, and before Javi knows what’s happening, their lips come together and the world ceases to exist because it doesn’t matter, nothing else matters but the two of them.

Javi reaches out to cradle Yuzuru’s head, touch that silky hair, sink deeper into the kiss, wet and warm and perfect. He knows he will never want to kiss anyone else now, not for as long as he lives, which may not be long – but even if it was, even if he lived a thousand years, he knows he would never even want to  _ look  _ at anyone else. His soul is singing, soaring, and his eyes fall shut, and it’s just that – Yuzuru’s mouth, and his skin, and the gently lapping water for a while.

Then – an eternity? a moment? later – Yuzuru moves away abruptly. “I’m sorry,” he gasps, and Javi stares at him, disoriented. “I shouldn’t have – maybe – is it too soon?” he stammers, stepping back as if he had done something wrong.

“No,” Javi breathes out. “Please,” he says, reaching for Yuzuru’s arm, to soothe, to pull him back, to make sure he knows this is alright. “I feel like I’ve been waiting all my life,” he says with a small, awed laugh, and doesn’t care one bit about how silly it may sound. “And now you’re finally here – and we have so little time.”

Yuzuru looks at him, his eyes huge, and scared, and full of stars. “We have so little time,” he breathes, shakes his head at something, and kisses Javi again. 

*

Yuzuru wakes up to bright sunlight, warmth, and a deep sense of belonging. Sighing contentedly, he snuggles up to Javi, smiling when Javi mumbles something in his sleep and drapes an arm around his waist, holding him close. The night had felt like a dream, with endless kisses – in the pool, and out, later, once their fingers turned wrinkly and they had to climb out – and hushed conversation as they lay curled up in Yuzuru’s bed, hands clasped together, tiredness slowly lulling them to sleep.

Yuzuru smiles, breathing in the scent of Javi’s neck, familiar already despite the short time they’ve spent together. Maybe it is still early. Maybe he could sleep a little more and then –

And then he remembers, or rather allows his mind to go there, to the harsh reality of things. He glances at his stack of books and scrolls, then back at Javi’s peaceful face. He feels like every moment he spends here, forgetting the world in his soulmate’s embrace, is another grain of sand trickling out through his fingers… and when he runs out, unless he is very lucky, this will be over, all of this, forever.

He shudders and sits up in bed, suddenly cold, his hands clammy. He doesn’t want to leave. And yet there is so much to do –

He’s just convinced himself to get up and get back to studying the ancient texts when there is a commotion in front of his cottage.

“You can’t come in,” he hears Kazuki’s voice, and briefly wonders how long Kazuki has been here already, waiting to bring him his breakfast. It must be later than he realized.

“Just let me in, Kazuki, don’t make me order you,” he hears, and in the next moment, the door flies open and in strides Saya, her hair unbraided, her eyes ringed with fatigue.

She takes one look at him, half naked in bed with Javi beside him, and curses in a way that would probably have earned her many a disapproving glare from some of Kenkami’s upstanding citizens.

“Yuzuru!” she exclaims, but to her credit, she keeps her voice low, barely above a whisper. “What have you done, brother?! Have you – you didn’t – did you?” she gesticulates, a little wildly, between him and Javi, the state of them.

“Saya, what is going on,” Yuzuru whispers, confused. Saya is clearly running on little to no sleep – he has not seen her like this since the last time she had been working on cracking a difficult spell and had stayed awake for nearly three days, stubborn as she is. “What do you mean – “

She lets out a frustrated huff, walks up to the bed and grabs for his hand, turning it palm up. Whatever she sees there seems to satisfy her, because she drops his wrist, crosses the room and sinks down heavily into one of Yuzuru’s chairs. “Of course you didn’t,” she says, swiping at her brow, rubbing away the tiredness. “You don’t even know, of course.”

“You’re not making any sense, sister,” he tells her, and disentangles himself from his sheets to get up.

“Must you?!” Saya rolls her eyes and looks away, as if seeing him in his underthings was scandalous.

Yuzuru throws her a look. “What did I not do? What do I not know?” he asks, slipping on a tunic and pulling his hair up into a knot. He hears Javi make a sound in his sleep and he is afraid Saya woke him up, but Javi simply rolls over, hugs one of Yuzuru’s pillows, and continues sleeping. The sight is endearing and he cannot help the small smile that crawls onto his face.

“You really are smitten,” Saya mumbles, shaking her head, glancing between him and Javi. Her expression softens for a moment, but then she frowns and thrusts a small book that Yuzuru had not even noticed at him. “Here.”

“What is this?”

Saya rubs at her temple. “We agreed I would find everything there is to know about  _ unmei no hito _ while you study the  _ kurosei  _ history and treaties in detail, you remember?” When Yuzuru nods, she goes on: “Well, read this, I have marked the important passages for you, brother.”

He notices that there are a few bookmarks stuck among the pages. “I will read it,” he says. “Is it something…  _ relevant _ ?” he asks, and feels his heart skip a beat. Is there anything that could help him? A way out of the imminent danger looming over him and Javi?

Saya gives him a long look. Then her face clouds over, and her eyes turn suspiciously moist. “You know, I always thought the  _ unmei no hito _ bond was perfection. That it was everything you could possibly wish for,” she says and smiles wryly. They have both heard the stories. They’ve read the elven poetry. Dreamt of this when they were younger, when Saya would sit with him braiding his hair while she told him how one day she would meet her  _ destined one _ and find happiness beyond measure.

Yuzuru nods slowly. “And it isn’t?” he asks.

Saya shrugs. “It is, under normal circumstances. Just… in your case, even if he was not marked…” she nods towards Javi.

Yuzuru shivers. His sister is not usually so dramatic, not even when sleep-deprived. “Just tell me, Saya. I will read but – “

“I found something. It may be useful,” she shrugs. “With the treaty and the way it is worded.”

“But that is great, Saya,” Yuzuru breathes, feeling wild hope swell inside his chest.

Saya gives a little huff, which sounds almost like a sob. When she looks at him, her eyes look weary way beyond her years. “It would be. If it didn’t mean that to save him,” she nods towards Javi, “you will be sentencing yourself to die.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with the story so far! <3 I'm sorry that I am slow responding to comments - I do, however, read all of them with a smile on my face and appreciate them a whole lot. So if there's anything you'd like to say, about the story or the art, please do.


	6. A Brewing Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drama (what else) and horses. And Javi likes food. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, once again, to everyone who is keeping up with this story!  
Amazing art by [@kakimashouu on IG](https://www.instagram.com/kakimashouu/) \- do leave her some love there, or here in comments, I pass on the compliments to her.

Javi finds Yuzuru already awake and sitting at his desk, a breakfast platter with enough food for four lying untouched next to him. He is wearing just a loose tunic that has slipped off his shoulder, unnoticed, and he is chewing on his lip, frowning, clearly deep in thought.

Javi wants to hug him, hold him, kiss the small freckle at the back of his neck, exposed for Javi to see where Yuzuru has pulled his hair up. There are none of the fancy braids, none of the adornments Javi saw him wear yesterday, and yet he is the most beautiful thing Javi has ever laid his eyes on.

He stretches his shoulder and feels no pain, not even much tension, and so he moves to climb out of bed to walk over and kiss that frown off of Yuzuru’s face, and perhaps steal some of that breakfast. Yuzuru hears him the moment he puts his feet on the floor, though. He turns, and when his eyes land on Javi, an expression like anguish flickers over his face.

Javi stops in his tracks, taken aback. Maybe last night had been just… he’s not even sure what. A feverish dream? A moment of madness? But it couldn’t be, not with Yuzuru, not with the connection Javi feels to him, strong and true.

“Hello,” he says awkwardly, shifts his weight from foot to foot. “Good morning.”

Yuzuru looks at him another second, wearing that curious expression, his hand coming up to touch his heart. Then his face softens, brightens, like the sun rising, like the buds of spring bursting into bloom.

“Good morning,” he says, and closes the small book he had seemed so engrossed in. “Have you rested well?”

Javi nods and now he does move, and Yuzuru moves with him, towards him, falling into his arms as if it was what they have always done, a routine borne of years spent beginning their days together.

Javi inhales Yuzuru, his hair, his skin – herbs and citrus, the smell of summer dreams – and smiles as he kisses his forehead where that small frown had been, the bridge of his nose.

“I slept like a baby,” Javi admits and caresses the side of Yuzuru’s neck, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind his ear. “I can barely remember what it felt like before I came here.”. It feels like a mere bad dream, the torment of nightmares and sleepless nights that had driven him half mad. He smiles in wonder. “Maybe I should just stay here with you, forever,” he jokes.

Yuzuru’s face falls and even though he tries to hide it as quickly as he can, Javi notices.

“What is it?” he asks. When Yuzuru doesn’t respond, Javi nudges his chin up. “I know it’s probably bad news,” he says quietly as reality hits and he remembers that the black curse spreading all over his chest is hardly just a nightmare. “But it’s easier to know the truth than to constantly wonder.”

Yuzuru swallows. “I asked my father – the King – to shelter you,” he says, and Javi blinks in surprise. “He declined,” Yuzuru goes on, visibly frustrated. “So I requested a full council gathering, so that a decision can be reached.”

“Is that why you are in trouble? Aside from bringing me in, I mean,” Javi says, his hands firm on Yuzuru’s shoulders.

“I went against my father’s wishes, but I have every right to do so as a citizen of this kingdom,” Yuzuru says, and juts his chin out. 

“I’m sorry,” Javi says, crestfallen. As if he had not caused enough trouble for Laura and his own village, he is now the cause of discord in Yuzuru’s home as well. He looks down at his bare feet. He feels steady, like he could mount a horse and ride again. “I should leave. This is my problem.”

It is Yuzuru’s turn to grab Javi’s chin, make him look at him. “You don’t need to go anywhere. Not until the council speaks. Not until we have a final ruling. And even then –“ Yuzuru shakes his head, snorts. “This is  _ ours  _ to solve, Javi. You are not alone in this.”

With that, Yuzuru kisses him, fiercely, with absolute determination, and Javi cannot help but sigh into the kiss, get lost in it, let go of his misgivings about his presence here. If Yuzuru wants him here, then he will stay.

They begin their breakfast in silence, and even though the atmosphere feels heavier than during the last meal they shared, Javi finds it comfortable. There is a courage in Yuzuru’s heart that makes him feel like there is still hope, like he is, maybe, not doomed to die. Javi enjoys the hearty porridge topped with berries, the cheese and crusty bread, sips on tea that is not quite as invigorating as coffee, but strong enough to wake him up. 

Yuzuru nibbles on some fruit, then begins braiding his hair with nimble fingers, listening when Javi begins talking, telling him that he should try this, and that, that this is fantastic, almost as good as the bread he and Laura bake.

It is obvious that Yuzuru is distracted, however, the way he keeps glancing back at his desk, at his palms when he finishes his braids, then back at Javi, again at his hands. This time, Javi doesn’t ask, however, just lets Yuzuru mull things over, confident now that Yuzuru will talk sooner or later.

He still cannot help but wonder about the council meeting, about what they may decide, and what will happen if they deny Yuzuru’s request. Then he will have to leave, regardless of what him and Yuzuru want…

He suddenly remembers something, very nearly smacking his forehead. How could he have forgotten?! “Effie!” he blurts, and Yuzuru looks up, clearly confused.

“Who?” he asks.

“My mare,” Javi explains, agitated. “I – I don’t remember much from the woods, I just remember you, and then I passed out…“ He shakes his head at himself. How did he not remember Effie earlier?! “She’s such a sweet mare, she’s not used to fights, she got a scare – and I don’t even know what happened to her!”

Yuzuru reaches out to grasp Javi’s arm. “She’s here,” he says and smiles when Javi lets out a deep exhale. “We brought her back, she’s been in good hands. She’s with my horse.”

“Oh. Oh, good. Thank you,” he says, and takes Yuzuru’s hand, kisses it, relieved. He would hate it if something bad happened to Effie. “Can I maybe see her?” Javi asks, and cares little for how foolish he must sound. But Yuzuru only smiles.

“I’ll take you to her.”

*

Kenkami is unlike anything Javi has ever seen. The trees are tall and ancient, and between them, or even  _ part of them _ are the elven buildings – cottages like the one Yuzuru lives in, larger buildings that Yuzuru explains are the library, the King’s palace, the Mages’ Hall... All of them seem to blend in with the landscape, organically shaped as they are, respecting the boundaries nature has set. The masonry is fine and plant-themed, filigree frescoes etched into the white walls above doors, along the arched windows.

Birdsong fills the air, along with the sounds of a community waking up and starting their day – it is soothing for Javi to find that many of the sounds are familiar, to know that despite all the magic, the elves are just a different kind of  _ people _ .

He walks around with a smile, leaning into Yuzuru for support – not that he needs it much anymore, his shoulder feeling infinitely better than it should after such a short period of time, but it is pleasant to feel Yuzuru’s warmth by his side, to touch him as they walk.

After a while, however, he notices that his smile is not being returned by the few elves they encounter on their way to the stables. They stare, some bow their head deferentially to Yuzuru, but then their expressions turn hostile when their eyes land on Javi.

Luckily, it is not a long walk. Soon enough, they are safely hidden away in the low building of the stables.

“Effie!” Javi exclaims when he spots his mare a few steps inside, rushing to her side. She whinnies when he comes near, pushing her muzzle into his hand with such enthusiasm that Javi has to laugh. “Sweet girl, I’m so glad you’re here,” he tells her, leaning his forehead against her soft head for a short moment. “I’m sorry I dragged you into this, little one.”

“It was not your fault,” Yuzuru says from the next stall over, frowning. “Kibe should not have shot,” he mutters.

“I meant the whole thing,” Javi explains. It is true that he did need a horse to ride out of Tillo when he decided to leave – only a few days ago, he realizes now, even if it feels like distant past. But his other reason for taking Effie was simply that she was company, a piece of home, a bit of the safe and familiar in the suddenly mad and frightening world. He had been selfish.

Yuzuru looks like he wants to say something but is interrupted by a horse head-bumping his shoulder from the stall he’s standing beside. Yuzuru smiles and turns to the stall to pet the horse’s head, run his hand through the snow-white mane. 

He says something in Elvish, patting the horse’s neck. 

“Is he yours? Or she?” Javi asks.

“This is Kōri,” Yuzuru tells him. “He’s been with me since he was a colt.” With that, Yuzuru fishes for a treat in the leather pouch tied to the belt cinched around his waist, and offers it to Kōri, who makes a happy sound and eats it off of Yuzuru’s palm.

Yuzuru pats the stallion once more, speaking at it gently, apologetically. “We’ll have to go riding together, Javi,” he says, and the simple joy in that statement makes Javi smile.

They stay with the horses a little while, talking about all the places they could ride –  _ all the way to the sea!  _ Javi says boldly, and presses a kiss to Yuzuru’s nose when he laughs, eyes twinkling, the sparkling gem dangling from one of his ears swinging as he throws his head back in delight.

The merriment evaporates rather quickly when they step out of the stables and are faced with a number of unfriendly faces. A few whispers ripple through the small group of elves, and all eyes turn to Javi, piercing, uncomfortable.

“They do not seem happy,” Javi whispers.

“You are correct,  _ koshiri _ . We are not very happy,” one of the elves says and Javi startles. He had been sure he had kept his voice low enough for only Yuzuru to hear… He realizes his mistake when he remembers how sharp of hearing the elves seem to be.

Javi winces at his blunder but the group’s attention seems to have shifted to Yuzuru. He addresses the gathered elves in their own language. Javi feels excluded, helpless. He feels like he should be sticking up for himself rather than rely on Yuzuru to protect him. But Yuzuru seems to radiate an air of authority now which Javi has not seen on him before. His face is impassive, his tone firm, sharp. It is both a little scary… and quite attractive, the way he holds himself with such confidence and poise even facing a whole group of what appear to be elves that are Yuzuru’s seniors.

The elves grumble something in response but disperse at Yuzuru’s gesture.

“The  _ kurosei _ curse will catch up with you, koshiri, even if you hide,” one of them – a beautiful, sharp-chinned woman – calls out maliciously while looking back at Javi over her shoulder. “We will not stand in the Dark Elves’ way when they come for you.”

Javi sighs. He feels the now familiar heaviness descend upon him again, and with it a sense of guilt. Yuzuru motions for him to start walking again and so he does, but the beauty of Kenkami seems dimmer now, and he can barely drag his feet forward.

“Maybe they are right,” he says dejectedly. “Maybe I should leave. I certainly bring no good fortune for anyone – “

Yuzuru turns to him, grabs his wrist. “You bring good fortune and happiness to me,” he says fiercely. “I know that I’m selfish,” he adds, looking down. “But they are being irrational. It is not their place. There is no threat to them, nor will there ever be. The council will decide, and when it does, that is when  _ we _ decide what to do, not before.” Yuzuru lets go of Javi’s wrist only to reach for his hand, cup it in his. “Please, Javi, just – trust me. This is the best course of action for now. I - I might have found something, this morning.”

“You have?” Javi gasps and even though he does not dare hope, his heart flutters at the idea.

Yuzuru humms, pensive. “I need to speak with my mother first. She is a mage,” he says. “But I think there is a way to save you from the  _ kurosei _ . And it does not involve them,” he tosses his head in the direction the group of elves had left in, “or anyone else. “

Javi nods, suddenly dazed. He had made peace with the fact that he is dying, that one way or another, his life is forfeit. But now, looking at Yuzuru’s face, he feels something ignite inside him. Maybe he can live. Maybe he can see everything the world has to offer. See Laura again. Ride all the way to the sea with Yuzuru. Spend the nights kissing him and the days basking in his presence.

“Let us head back,” Yuzuru says gently. “I suppose Akira will want to come see you – and I will go consult with my mother.”

*

“My queen.” Yuzuru bows upon entering his mother’s chambers. “Mother,” he adds, smiling. She looks up from a manuscript she is studying, and returns his smile.

“So formal,” she tuts, and stands, robes rustling, to come kiss his cheeks lightly. “Just because you are fighting with your father does not mean you’re fighting with me, child,” she says and Yuzuru ducks his head.

“Father doesn’t understand,” he mumbles, then follows his mother inside her sitting room, and sinks into one of the chairs when she gestures for him to sit. He watches as she takes out her favorite tea set – black, with turquoise glaze inside the pot and cups – and spoons tea leaves into it, then fills it with water from a ewer. She passes her hand over the teapot, whispering the words of a spell, and suddenly light steam is rising from the pot, the water hot at just the right temperature for steeping the tea.

_ _

“Of course he does not,” she agrees with Yuzuru. “Your father is a king and he has long forgotten how it is to be young,” she says with a gentle smile, and a sparkle in her eye. “I like to think he does remember how it feels to be in love,” she adds.

Yuzuru sighs. “He has told you about Javi,” he says.

“Is Javi what he is called, the human?”

Yuzuru nods, watching the swirls of steam rising from the pot, breathing in the scent of fresh tea. Normally, it would be soothing. He is worried now, though. He has left Javi safe inside his cottage, and sent Kazuki to let Akira know that Javi is doing well and that he is welcome to come check on him at leisure, but the altercation with some of Kenkami’s inhabitants has shaken him. He had not thought that people – his own people! – could be so hostile, so narrow-minded.

“And you are smitten with this man,” his mother continues, smiling at him calmly as she pours the tea into two cups.

Yuzuru bristles a little at the statement. “Did father not tell you?” he asks, a little sharper than he intended.

“Tell me what?”

“What he is to me,” he answers, and takes a sip of the tea. It is his favorite, the delicate jasmine flavor familiar on his palate. It is also his mother’s favorite, they have been drinking it together since he was a child marveling at her mage skills – back then, heating up water had seemed an amazing feat to him. He now knows, of course, that his mother is a lot more powerful than that, even though she does not usually show it.

His mother raises a surprised eyebrow. “He must have omitted that detail.”

Yuzuru takes a calming breath. This is his chance. If he can convince his mother, enlist her help…

“He is my  _ unmei no hito _ ,” he says, and doesn’t hide the quiver in his voice at the words. Let her see. Let her know how much this means, he thinks to himself.

His mother’s eyes widen in surprise. “He is a  _ koshiri,”  _ she says. There is no malice in the statement, no judgment, and Yuzuru appreciates that. He can imagine how his mother feels in that moment – there is no record of a union such as this, of destiny bringing together one of their kind with a human, not even in the romantic poems he’s read.

“And yet it is true,” Yuzuru tells her. “You are a mage. You can see for yourself,” he says, and holds up his hand for his mother.

She looks at him, and merely nods. Then she speaks the incantation, a spell to temporarily call forth what is invisible to the eye, but rooted in the world of spirits. The thread of destiny seems to materialize out of nowhere, a red tangle that winds tightly around Yuzuru’s pinky finger, twirls down his hand, his wrist, and then stretches across the room, disappearing through the wall. He watches his mother’s face as she follows the red, softly glowing string with her eyes, and knows that if she were to walk out and follow the thread, that it would lead her to his cottage, and end wrapped around Javi’s own left hand, his left little finger.

“It  _ is _ true,” his mother breathes, a tinge of awe in her voice. She then whispers another spell, and the thread disappears. When she looks up at Yuzuru, her eyes are full of wonder – and sadness.

“He is dying, mother,” Yuzuru says, and it hurts to let the words out, to remind himself once again of the painful truth. “The  _ kurosei _ will take him if the council doesn’t agree to protect him,” he says. Then he takes a breath: “Or if I don’t stop this.”

“You cannot stop this, Yuzuru, my dearest,” his mother says, and she suddenly seems older than she ever has to him, a waning moon instead of the brightly glowing one she has always been to him. “The treaty – “ she says, then stops, shaking her head in sorrow.

“Mother,” he interrupts her, reaches for her hands. “There is a way. I know it. The treaty – there is a way. All I need is the bond that will unite Javi and I, and – “

“No.” His mother looks at him, eyes fearful.

“It is the only way. You can perform the spells. I need your help,  _ okaa _ , please,” he begs.

“He is  _ human _ , Yuzuru,” his mother says and touches his cheek. He can see the sadness in her, the compassion in her eyes. “They are so frail, humans. Like flowers that only bloom for a single day, then wilt and wither,” she says gently, then looks at Yuzuru. “It is a hard choice you put before me, an impossible choice.”

“Please,” he repeats, desperate, the mounting panic he has somehow managed to suppress in Javi’s presence slamming back. “I beg you.” He stands, and bows so deeply his forehead touches his mother’s knees where she is sitting.

“Yuzuru,” his mother pleads, and her eyes are filled with tears when he looks up. It is an ache he is unprepared for, to see his mother thus, but even so, even so… He knows in his heart that saving Javi is worth it, that he would do anything, prostrate himself on the floor and scream himself hoarse if that would do any good.

“Either way, you will suffer,” his mother says, and Yuzuru wants to protest, to tell her that the happiness he stands to gain is worth every sacrifice, that he will gladly throw away everything if it means that he and Javi can have what Destiny intended for them, even if it was for just a blink of an eye.

He hears his mother take a deep breath. “I am sorry,” she then says. “I will not do this. This way, you will suffer, but you will live.”

Yuzuru stares at her. Then her words sink in and he shakes his head, the cold dark fear inside him rising up, stirring up the helpless anger once again.

“And what life is it going to be, if you take my true love away from me?” he spits, then turns on his heel, and rushes out of his mother’s chambers without turning back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anything you like or hate in particular? I always want to know.


	7. A Glimmer of Hope

Yuzuru stumbles out of the palace, his heartbeat loud and frantic in his ears. If his mother will not do this, then he has nothing, no way to save Javi should the council refuse to shelter him from the  _ kurosei.  _ Without a mage, all the research he and Saya have tried to do over the past couple of days will have been for nothing and –

Saya.

Yuzuru nearly laughs out hysterically when it occurs to him. His mother is not the only mage he can trust with this delicate matter. He wipes at his eyes, not even sure when the tears have welled up, and turns to head towards his sister’s cottage.

As he turns and all but starts running, he nearly collides with another figure he hadn’t even seen, the residue tears clouding his vision, his distraught state jarring his senses.

“Careful there, prince Yuzuru,” the person speaks. 

Yuzuru blinks and when his sight sharpens once again, he recoils. Daisuke, the Dark Elf, is standing in front of him, arm out at the ready as if he had meant to catch Yuzuru should he stumble.

“Get out of my way,” Yuzuru snarls, forgetting himself. As the king’s heir, he should show courtesy to their guest… He finds he doesn’t have the strength, or the heart. He always knew he would make a lousy royal heir to begin with.

Daisuke holds up both of his hands with palms forward, a gesture of peace. Looking at his face still makes Yuzuru want to scream.

“I see you are upset,” Daisuke says, deadpan. “I am sorry my presence causes you pain. But please know there is no spite in any of my actions.” The dark elf inclines his head lightly, bowing a fraction.

Yuzuru only snorts. No spite?! He steps away from the elf. Daisuke is not done yet, though, it seems.

“It may be difficult to believe but I wish no harm upon you. Things simply are the way they are, and I am here to ensure the agreements between your kin and mine are upheld.”

“You are here to murder Javi,” Yuzuru hisses and barely resists the urge to point his finger at the  _ kurosei’s _ chest. “Do not try to deny it.”

Daisuke inhales deeply. “I am sorry you see it this way,” he says. “I know he is important to you but with his sacrifice, peace and order will prevail. It must seem terrible to you now but the pain will pass – “

“The pain will pass?!” Yuzuru cries, heat rising in his cheeks. “He is my  _ destined one _ .” He advances towards the dark elf now, hands balled into fists. “What would you know about that?! What would you know about  _ pain? _ !”

Daisuke’s eyes flash at that and his face contorts as he looks at Yuzuru. “Oh believe me, honored prince,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “I do know everything about pain. You are not the only one with an  _ unmei no hito _ .”

Yuzuru stares at him blankly for a moment. “But you are  _ kurosei _ ,” he says dumbly.

Daisuke laughs, a dry, pained thing. “You think we are that different, Yuzuru? You think we know nothing of love, and happiness, and loss?” He shakes his head. “My soulmate and I knew each other from childhood, grew up together in the same settlement. You cannot imagine such happiness, sharing everything, every day. We were never bonded, of course, because we were so young, truly still just children. And then she died.”

Yuzuru takes a step away from the dark elf, taken aback by his sudden outburst. “How did she die?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Daisuke says, but his voice falters and his face is a mask of pain. Then he closes his eyes, draws a breath. When he goes on, he is calm once again: “My point is, prince, you _ can _ live without your  _ unmei no hito _ .”

Yuzuru looks at him, looks at the pain etched into the lines of his face, the way his eyes seem almost dead now. “Maybe you can,” he says, and shakes his head. “But we  _ are _ different, honored Daisuke. Because I can’t. I can’t and I won’t.” Yuzuru stands up straighter, looks Daisuke in the eye. “And if you stand in my way, then Spirits forgive me, I will fight you.”

*

In the end, Yuzuru finds Saya in the Mages’ Hall. He pulls her aside to one of the small rooms the mages use for individual study. The walls are lined with shelves full of odd accouterments that Yuzuru barely recognizes. It smells like books, ink and residue magic. 

Saya takes one look at him and doesn’t even ask anything before she closes the door, then casts a spell he knows will provide privacy should anyone want to listen in on their conversation.

“I need you to do it, Saya,” he bursts out the moment she turns back to him. “I went to  _ okaa  _ but she refused. I begged her, Saya, and she still – “ Yuzuru gulps for breath, his throat suddenly tight. “I can’t do it myself, I need your help.” The tears are back, choking him, stinging in his eyes.

“Brother,” Saya says, and grasps his shoulders. “Breathe,” she reminds him. When Yuzuru draws a few shaky breaths, she nods. “What are you talking about?”

“The bond,” Yuzuru says, then hurries to continue when he sees Saya’s crinkled forehead. “I know, Saya, I  _ know _ . I have studied the text you found.  _ One blood, one flesh, one soul, _ ” he quotes. “ _ Until the end of all days, until the Spirit of Death’s embrace _ .”

“But do you know what it means, Yuzuru? He’s a  _ koshiri _ . Do you understand?” Saya’s voice quivers.

He nods, smiles a little sadly. “I do.”

“So you know what you are asking of me?” Saya’s eyes are huge, and misty, and Yuzuru once again feels guilty and selfish.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I can’t let him go,” he adds, and the tears spill now, hot wet trails down his cheeks. “I would rather die right now than live knowing I didn’t save him when I had a chance.”

Saya says nothing for a moment, then pulls him into her arms. He feels her own tears against his neck.

“I am not sure if I can do it right,” Saya whispers eventually. Yuzuru pulls out of the embrace and looks at her, surprised. Somehow, this had not occurred to him, focused as he was on simply convincing Saya to help him. But of course it is magic, and Saya is an apprentice, and spells have to be learned, mastered…

“The spell itself is not so complex,” she says quickly, obviously seeing the panic on his face. “I’ve been reading up on it since last night. I can do the spell itself, I think. But there’s so little time to prepare. There are rituals that should have been done weeks prior to the bonding… “

Yuzuru feels his heart clench inside him. “So there is no way - ?”

Saya bites her lip, then shrugs. “It should work. From what I understand, as long as both of you are willing and ready – as long as you are sure this is what you desire, truly, in your heart. It should work, even without the customary rituals. They are meant to prepare you for the bond and such.”

“I’m ready,” Yuzuru says without hesitation. 

“And Javi?” she asks.

Yuzuru stops, opens his mouth.

“You have not told him yet?” Saya asks, incredulous.

“I didn’t want to – I first wanted to be sure if there was indeed a way. Before I get his hopes up. I will explain everything to him tonight,” he promises. He is sure Javi will understand – or he hopes he will, hopes that Javi feels… that he feels the same way Yuzuru does. For a second, the doubt is there, a sharp sting of pain, making him wonder… He shakes his head to dispel the train of thought. He will deal with that obstacle when he reaches it.

“You will do it?” he asks Saya instead. “If Javi agrees, you will help us?” He holds his breath, watches as Saya swallows thickly, blinks away her tears.

“You will die, brother,” she says, looking at her feet.

“I know,” Yuzuru says, and it is scary to think of mortality like that. “But it will be a happy death, knowing I have lived and loved so… so fully,” he says, and the thought invigorates him, makes the cloud of fear in his mind dissipate. 

Saya nods. “I will do it,” she says.

This time, it is Yuzuru who pulls her close, and holds her, not sure if it is him that is shaking, or her. “Thank you,” he whispers, and feels Saya nod against his shoulder.

Then Saya draws a deep breath, steps back, and wipes at her eyes while Yuzuru does the same.

“How will I explain this to mother, hm?” she says, trying for lightness even though her voice is still thick with tears.

Yuzuru is infinitely grateful, and he chuckles, wet and teary but also relieved. “She is going to be so angry with me she won’t even remember to be angry with you,” he says, and when Saya lets out a small laugh, Yuzuru allows himself to hope for the first time that maybe everything will turn out alright. 

*

The sky is the color of corncockle blooms, a lush pink shot through with streaks of yellow, when Yuzuru finally returns to his cottage. His limbs feel heavy, and his head is swimming with everything that happened during the day, as well as with the details of the ritual Saya had explained to him.

Yuzuru enters and finds Kazuki inside, leaning against the desk, quizzing Javi about his life.

“My prince,” Kazuki blurts when he spots Yuzuru. “I was – your guest, he was telling me a bit about the  _ koshiri _ . I – I brought dinner, I thought you might be hungry,” the boy stammers. As if Yuzuru would berate him for keeping Javi company.

Javi shrugs, smiling, and Yuzuru is pleased to notice that the tension he had been carrying in his shoulders since the encounter by the stables has eased.

“Thank you, Ka,” he nods at Kazuki. He doesn’t need to say more – Kazuki knows him well, and he understands immediately, bowing first to Javi with a quick, mumbled  _ thank you _ , then to Yuzuru with a sheepish grin. 

Then they are alone and Yuzuru suddenly feels as if someone had taken him and sucked out all his energy. He sways on his feet as all the pent up emotion wells up in his chest, making him feel weak.

“Hey, Yuzu,” Javi calls, and the next moment, his arms are wrapped around Yuzuru, one strong palm resting against the small of his back, the other under his arm. “Are you alright? Let’s sit you down,” Javi says, and walks him back to the bed, sitting him down on the edge carefully.

“Did you just call me  _ Yuzu _ ?” Yuzuru asks, and giggles, feeling lightheaded, like his feet are not quite touching the ground. He is not sure it is a good thing, that. 

Javi blushes, and it is a pretty thing, and his eyelashes are incredibly long, Yuzuru notices when Javi drops his gaze. “Maybe,” he says.

“I like it,” Yuzuru decides. It sounds… sweet, somehow, coming from Javi, like an endearment almost.

“Alright, Yuzu,” Javi says and lays his hand on Yuzuru’s shoulder, caresses his neck. “Have you had any food today?”

Yuzuru shrugs. “Breakfast?” he says feebly.

“Let’s eat, then. That thing Kazuki brought smells delicious,” Javi says, and Yuzuru briefly wonders how he can be like this, worrying about Yuzuru and his dinner rather than everything else. Javi smiles at him, then fetches the tray with their dinner, sets it down on the bed, and hands Yuzuru one of the bowls, as well as a fork. “Eat,” he tells him when Yuzuru hesitates, scowling a little.

“My sister always says that there’s nothing a good meal – or a good coffee – can’t fix,” Javi says between mouthfuls from his own bowl. “I mean, it does not always apply to everything,” he admits with a shrug, “but you look tired, and food helps with that. I wish you had coffee around here.”

“I’ve never had coffee,” Yuzuru says absentmindedly. When Javi’s eyes widen comically, he can’t help but laugh. “We prefer tea.”

“When we go home –“ Javi stops abruptly, bites his lip. “I mean, to Tillo – if you want to come, of course – I will make you coffee. I’m sure you’ll like it,” he tells Yuzuru and Yuzuru wishes it could happen just like that, just as easily, the two of them riding Effie and Kōri out of Kenkami, off to Javi’s lands, and further south, like Javi had mentioned before, all the way to the sea.

Javi clears away the bowls once they have finished their meal, telling him that Akira had come and gone, satisfied with Javi’s healing wound – nearly gone now,  _ it really is magic _ !

He then sits behind Yuzuru, and starts unbraiding his hair, and Yuzuru closes his eyes, and doesn’t mind that Javi tugs a bit here and there. It is much later, after the night has already fallen, after they had bathed in Yuzuru’s pond, trading kisses, letting their tongues tangle again and again, slick skin against skin – it’s after all that, when they are sitting in bed, looking at each other, that Javi finally asks.

“Did you – did your talk with your mother go well?” He words it so carefully, with just the lightest tremor in his voice, that Yuzuru’s heart nearly breaks in two. He should have told Javi straight away, regardless of his own weariness.

“She will not help,” Yuzuru says, a curious blend of emotion in his heart – frustration, disappointment, and sadness… and somehow, surprisingly, a tiny sliver of understanding. Love is an odd thing, he realizes… He suddenly understands that his mother acted out of love, nothing else.

Javi nods, looking down, lips tight.

“Javi,” Yuzuru says quickly. “I went to Saya after that. She is a mage, too. She may not be as skilled as mother yet, but she is powerful, too. She has promised to help us.” Javi looks up, hope flaring in his brown eyes, and Yuzuru prays to the Spirits that he will not fail him, that his plan will work. He hesitates before he adds: “She will perform the spells… if you agree.”

Javi raises his eyebrows and gives a minute shake of the head. “Why wouldn’t I agree?” he asks. “Yuzu, you are saving my  _ life _ .” Javi takes his hand, brings it up to his lips to place a gentle kiss on the back of it.

“I need you to understand what this entails,” Yuzuru says, suddenly nervous. “There is a ritual. A bond that  _ unmei no hito  _ can choose to enter. Saya and I have both studied the details of this bonding, as well as the treaty between the  _ kurosei  _ and my people. We think the bond would, well – “ Yuzuru shrugs, aware of how feeble a plan this must seem, put like that. “There is a… a loophole of sorts. My sister and I both believe that the bond should protect you from the curse. The Dark Elves should not be allowed to hurt you, this way.”

“That’s… that’s amazing,” Javi says, and grips his hands harder. “You’re amazing.” 

Yuzuru shakes his head. “Please, I need to – I need you to know everything,” he says, and feels a pang of guilt as he does. He will not divulge  _ everything _ … but it is for the better. “The bond is quite formal – it is a sacred promise, of sorts, unique to the couple. It unites you – body, blood, soul… There are spells to seal the bond before the Spirits, and a blood-bonding. It means… It means promising yourself to one another… Now, and forever.”

Yuzuru blushes. “I know it is a lot. I wish – I wish the situation was different, and not so difficult. It should be a thing you choose freely, out of… devotion. And love. It is a bond of love,” he says, and is too afraid to look up at Javi, so he just goes on. “I know it’s too much too soon, Javi, and I should not be asking this – “

He feels the tears gather in his eyes, slide out of the corners, hot and treacherous, his earlier exhaustion catching up with him again. Then Javi’s hands are cradling his face, lifting it up until their eyes meet.

“Yes,” Javi says simply. When Yuzuru opens his mouth to speak, Javi shushes him. “And it would be yes even if I had all the time in the world, even if I was not cursed, even if I was not dying...”

Yuzuru sobs, an ugly, rickety sound. Javi moves one of his hands to wipe at his tears, then places it at his nape, warm and soothing. “I had made peace with dying, you know, Yuzu,” he says quietly. “I was a bit scared, but it was okay, as long as it was just me.” Javi gives a small shrug. “But now – now I want to live. Because of you, because I want to be by your side, and do all the things – take you to the sea, and make you coffee, and sit around bonfires, and… and  _ love you _ , until we’re old, and grey, and shriveled up like a pair of plums.”

Yuzuru laughs, and sobs, and leans into Javi when Javi gently pulls him forward, until their foreheads are touching and their breath mingles.

“I love you,” he whispers, and he knows it’s too soon, too fast, too insane, perhaps… But it is true, his heart knows it, just as his soul does, and it feels like magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the _instalove_. I couldn't help it. *hides*


	8. A Bond of Souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by the wonderful [@kakimashouu on IG](https://www.instagram.com/kakimashouu/), as always.

The day passes in a dream.

Javi spends the sunlit morning in bed, carting his fingers through Yuzuru’s hair, kissing the pillow-lines on his face, learning how to say  _ I love you  _ in Elvish, delighted when Yuzuru giggles at his dreadful pronunciation.

“What is the plan today?” Javi asks once they have finished breakfast.

Yuzuru chews at his bottom lip, a small frown forming between his eyebrows. He looks at Javi, then shakes his head. “Nothing. There is no plan. I just… I simply want to be with you.”

Javi smiles at that… and even though he feels the unease, the lingering fear – today is the last day before the council meeting that will decide his fate – he decides to simply focus on the now, on the joys of sharing a day like this, just two young people in love rather than a pair of star-crossed lovers desperately battling against a dark curse. 

He loves it.

He loves Yuzuru holding his hand as they sneak out of his cottage and follow secret passages to a meadow hidden among the forests surrounding the settlement.

He loves the quiet focus with which Yuzuru nocks an arrow, takes aim, then releases. Javi whoops when the arrow flies, swift and true, and hits a small wild plum growing on one of the trees at the other end of the meadow. He attempts to replicate the feat, feeling Yuzuru’s deceivingly delicate bow hum in his fingers as he releases, then laughs at himself when the arrow hits a pine several meters to the left of the plum tree. Javi knows he will never make a good bowman – the few times he has tried have proven to him that he lacks the necessary finesse, the sharp concentration, the nimble fingers required for archery. He still asks Yuzuru to teach him, if only for the pleasure of Yuzuru touching his arm, his hand, standing close behind him as he helps Javi align for a shot, his breath ghosting Javi’s neck.

He loves the way Yuzuru laughs and squirms helplessly when, lying in the shadow of one of the trees’ at noon, Javi accidentally discovers that elves can be quite ticklish.

And when they return to Kenkami proper in the afternoon, Javi loves the hush that descends upon them after they have taken their meal, a nap, and their bath – it is not filled with anxiety, nor worry, only an excited sort of anticipation.

“Wait for me,” Yuzuru tells him just before sunset, wearing a smile that Javi thinks looks almost bashful, his cheeks pink and eyes shy, then disappears after a quick kiss to Javi’s temple.

_A_ _promise_, Yuzuru had said last night. _Now, and forever._ Javi turns the words over in his head while he dresses in the fresh clothes Kazuki had brought for him, a shirt as green as emeralds and as soft as gossamer, with tiny shimmery beads stitched along the sleeves and collar, and breeches made of fine black fabric. He wonders if he should feel nervous, remembers the way the young men in his village would talk and act as their nuptials drew close, getting the so-called _cold feet_. He feels none of that. It could be the fact that he is tip-toeing the line between life and death, has been for a while now, and everything else seems minor in comparison. But in his heart, Javi knows better than that. It’s not the death threat hanging above him, nor the fact that he has been through so much in such a short period of time… No. It’s the fact that this feels _right_. He cannot wait to promise himself to Yuzuru. He cannot wait for that _forever_.

*

The sun is already halfway down when Yuzuru returns, preceded by Saya, though Javi barely notices her. She looks solemn when she comes in, carrying a small basket with various items, but a quiet laugh escapes her when she sees Javi’s expression once he spots Yuzuru.

“You’re – ,” Javi gasps. “You’re so beautiful.” He doesn’t care that he probably looks and sounds like an idiot because the sight of Yuzuru takes his breath away. His hair is weaved into a few braids on the sides and on top of his head, shiny ornaments woven in, but the rest of it flows loose down his back. An elaborate piece of jewelry adorns one of his ears, all delicate swirls and gems the color of deep sea. The blue tunic he’s wearing seems to shimmer as he moves, stepping close to touch Javi’s cheek with his hand.

“Ready?” Yuzuru asks, looking into his eyes.

“Yes,” Javi says, and feels like he’s been ready all his life. He wants to kiss Yuzuru right now, and not let go, but Saya has disappeared in the direction of the back-garden and is probably waiting for them, so he contents himself with a gentle touch to Yuzuru’s face, a quick brush of fingers against skin.

The water in the pond is glowing gold in the last rays of the day’s sun, shimmering as the stream’s mild current makes the surface ripple where it flows into the small pool. There are twinkling lights glowing in the branches of the surrounding trees that Javi doesn’t remember from before – they seem to be suspended without any string or support, and they are definitely not lanterns, so they must be Saya’s doing.

Magic, he thinks, but the true magic is the soft silence that falls upon them as they stand by the pond facing each other, holding hands.

“Yuzuru explained the ritual to you, Javi?” Saya asks, and he nods, and hears her chuckle, probably at his not taking his eyes off of Yuzuru, not even for a moment.

“Good,” she says. “I have translated the words into the Common tongue,” she says, and Javi does look at her now to incline his head, grateful. Saya smiles. “The language doesn’t really matter, it’s the intent that is important. I thought you should know what you are getting yourself into.”

Then Saya closes her eyes and says something in Elvish, and the air around them seems to shiver. Javi feels goosebumps erupt along his arms despite the warmth of the evening. He feels Yuzuru’s hands tighten around his, and knows that he feels it, too. Javi stands up straighter, feeling both completely at ease and at the same time abuzz with anticipation.

Saya reaches for a scroll she has brought with her. “Repeat after me,” she says, and Javi does, and soon the world around him blurs and the only thing that exists is this, the ancient words him and Yuzuru echo in unison, the subtle hum of magic that fills the air, and something bigger, stronger, and more beautiful than anything he has ever experienced that seems to fill his heart, his mind, and his whole body.

_ “Of our hands, make one hand. _

_ Of our blood, one blood. _

_ Of our hearts, make one heart. _

_ Of our lives, one life. _

_ Of our souls, make one soul. _

_ Of our fate, one fate. _

_ From now on, I bond myself to you to respect and cherish you _

_ Until the end of all days, until the Spirit of Death’s embrace, _

_ We are one, united by destiny, bound today by free will. _

_ One blood. _

_ One flesh. _

_ One soul.” _

_ _

The final words hang between them, and Javi can feel the bond as if it was an intricate web binding them together, drawing them close. Not quite complete yet, he can tell, and is not sure how he can, but something feels like it is missing.

He watches Yuzuru as he accepts the silver dagger from Saya, and draws it lightly across his left palm, a line of red welling up in its wake. He then holds it out for Javi to take, and Javi slices it across his own palm without hesitation, the slight pain barely registering now, lost as he is in Yuzuru’s presence, and the insistent tug of magic that seems to emanate from the very core of his being.

They press their hands together, clasp the free hands around them, and Javi feels a flash of heat pass through their bleeding palms. They stay like that a moment, and Javi imagines he can feel Yuzuru’s heartbeat, sense his every breath the moment he draws it as if it was his own.

Saya speaks in Elvish, which Javi barely registers, all he can think of is the happiness that seems to spill through him, from the tips of his fingers to his toes, elated and bubbly, almost like being drunk but without the spinning head, without the wobbly, nauseating feeling of being out of control.

When Saya prompts them to release their hands, Javi doesn’t want to let go of Yuzuru, not now, not ever... In the end, he does so reluctantly, and only upon Yuzuru’s whispered: “It’s okay. Just for a moment.”

He looks down at his palm, and does a double take, because he finds it whole, the skin he had cut mere moments ago knit together, nothing but a silvery scar remaining in place of the wound.

He hears Saya murmur something more in Elvish, and for a second the web he had known was there flashes in front of his eyes, red, vivid, alive. But then it is gone, and Javi feels dazed, reaching for Yuzuru on instinct, finding the warmth of his hand again, finding his eyes, bright with the reflected fairy lights Saya had conjured up, and full of the same delighted happiness Javi feels, too.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Saya says in the common tongue.

“To what?” Javi asks dumbly, not quite thinking straight right now, overwhelmed as he is.

Saya shoots Yuzuru a sharp look, to which he only shrugs and says something Javi doesn’t understand, blushing as he does.

Saya shakes her head, but her mouth twitches up at the corner. “I’m sure my brother is capable of explaining that on his own,” she says, and turns on her heel, leaving them alone.

“What did she mean?” Javi asks once they hear the door of the cottage close behind Saya.

Yuzuru looks at his toes briefly. “The last line of the vows, it says – “

“One blood, one flesh, one soul,” Javi repeats, the words still ringing through his memory. 

Yuzuru looks up, a bashful smile on his lips. “One blood,” he says and reaches for Javi’s hand, traces the silvery scar with his index finger. “One soul – that is what the spells were about, to tie the thread of destiny for good, you saw…”

Javi nods, remembering the glowing red string threaded between and around them, a cocoon of a connection that winked out of sight, but remained there, palpable, a thing to be felt as if by some sixth sense.

“One flesh,” Yuzuru says, “is the last part of the bonding.” He threads his fingers through Javi’s, brings Javi’s hand up to his lips to kiss it gently, and his eyes seem to ignite when he meets Javi’s gaze, stirring up heat inside Javi. “I did not tell you about this part but I assumed that you wouldn’t mind the surprise,” Yuzuru says, and laughs lightly, a little breathlessly. “The bond, it needs to be… consummated.”

Javi stares at him a moment, the whole of him, and his mouth suddenly goes dry. “You mean – “ he says stupidly, his brain not quite functioning as a wave of unexpected desire washes through him.

“Yes,” Yuzuru says, and steps closer, closer, until Javi can feel the warmth of him, breathe in the heady scent of his hair, his skin, of  _ him _ . “If you want…” he says, so close his lips nearly brush Javi’s when he speaks.

Javi doesn’t answer him, just closes the gap between them, sinking into the heat of Yuzuru’s mouth, sweeping his tongue inside. Yuzuru makes a desperate little sound, and his hands come up to tangle in Javi’s curls, deepening the kiss.

They had kissed like this before, in a way that nearly drove Javi out of his mind, but there had been the dread of the curse constantly hanging above him, as well as his exhaustion, and Yuzuru’s tense worry… Now that fear is gone, dissolved for the most part by the knowledge that he is safe, linked to Yuzuru,  _ promised _ to him. Buoyed by the intense happiness of the newly sealed bond, unhampered by darkness, Javi can finally allow himself to feel everything fully, to imagine how it would be to cradle Yuzuru in his arms the way he wants to, skin against skin…

He feels Yuzuru’s hands on his shoulders, clutching, pushing at the fabric so his fingers can slide under it and dance along Javi’s collarbones. Javi shivers under the caress, and chases Yuzuru’s tongue with his own, burying his hands in those black tresses, tipping his head back so he can plunder his mouth further, hungry for more.

“Inside,” he hears Yuzuru gasp when they part for breath, and Javi nods. They stumble towards the cottage, towards the bed, and Yuzuru’s fingers are under his shirt before they get there, untucking it, pulling it up and over his head.

Then Yuzuru looks at him in the dimness of the room, studying him. Only a single lamp stands lit in the corner, casting everything in soft warm light, and Javi looks back, breathing heavily and suddenly a little hesitant, afraid to break the magic.

“You’ve done this before?” Yuzuru asks out of the blue, and Javi notices that his hands are shaking where he lifts them to lay one on Javi’s shoulder, resting the other over Javi’s heart, over the black webbing marring his skin. 

“Yes,” Javi confirms. It has never felt quite like this, though, so  _ full _ in the heart, he realizes. “Have you?”

Yuzuru shrugs ever so subtly. “No,” he admits, and that simple confession makes Javi’s heart skip a beat, makes his blood rush. “I’ve been waiting...” Yuzuru adds, and Javi sees the blush, as if he was a little self-conscious.

He wants to say something  _ worthy _ , somehow, to express the wonder and excitement he is feeling. What falls out instead is the sudden flash of a thought he just had: “Yuzu, how old are you?”

Yuzuru blinks at him, his mouth forming an O of surprise.

“Sorry, that’s stupid, I don’t know why I’d ask that,” Javi starts explaining, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It’s just, you said you’ve been waiting, and I realized I don’t even know – I mean, you all look like you don’t age at all, and I wondered –“ Javi feels awkward, like he should have asked this before, not now, not here.

To his relief, Yuzuru laughs. “Maybe I am 250,” he says and Javi nearly chokes, eyes wide. Yuzuru giggles, though, and strokes his hands over Javi’s shoulders. “I’m twenty-three, Javi,” he says and Javi lets out a sigh of relief.

“It doesn’t really matter either way,” he mumbles, a little embarrassed, but Yuzuru leans in to kiss him again, soft and sweet, and Javi lets go of his blunder, focuses instead on the fluttering inside his chest, then on the delicious shiver that goes through him when Yuzuru slides his hands down his back, lightly grazing his skin with his nails.

It’s his hands that tremble this time as he opens the delicate clasp on Yuzuru’s tunic, lets his fingers brush along his clavicles, up the line of Yuzuru’s neck. He wants to kiss there, he wants to kiss everywhere, trace every single line of Yuzuru’s body, taste all of him. The fact that he can do just that makes his head spin a little.

He pulls the tunic off of Yuzuru, holding his breath. It’s not that he’s not seen him naked before – he has, bathing in the pool, his skin glistening and smooth, nothing short of a dream. But this feels different, and Javi takes his time, as he lets his hands travel over the planes of Yuzuru’s chest, trailing kisses in their wake, cherishing every touch, every moment.

Yuzuru sits down on the bed and pulls Javi with him, beckoning as they shuffle up. Yuzuru’s lips feel like fire over Javi’s chest when he climbs on top of him to lick and kiss and nip at his skin, and Javi hisses, a little helpless, when Yuzuru’s mouth closes around one of his nipples, just a hint of teeth. He tangles his hands in Yuzuru’s hair, and tries not to pull too much at first. Yuzuru doesn’t seem to mind, though. He makes a low sound in his throat when Javi’s fingers tighten against his scalp of their own volition, and Javi allows himself to let go, get lost in the sensation of Yuzuru’s tongue as it flicks out against the tender skin of his hip bone, dipping hotly into Javi’s belly button.

“Can I take these off?” Yuzuru asks and looks up, tugging at the lacing of Javi’s breeches.

“If you take off yours first,” Javi says, and Yuzuru smirks, shuffling off to unlace and tug off his own clothes.

Javi sits up and stares, just drinking him in, the way Yuzuru holds himself under the scrutiny, the lean muscles, the lust-blown eyes and kiss-swollen lips… The words fall out straight from Javi’s heart, he doesn’t even have to think about them:

“I love you,” he says, and watches the smile that spills across Yuzuru’s face, and then Yuzuru’s lips are on his again, smiling into the kiss.

It feels so good just to fall into the mattress together, naked and tangled up from head to toe, Yuzuru’s fingers digging into his back when Javi rolls on top of him to kiss from his neck, across his chest, all the way to his hips. He kisses the insides of Yuzuru’s thighs, marvels at the way the muscles twitch slightly under his lips. He nearly loses his mind at the desperate whine Yuzuru lets out when he takes him in his mouth, sucking gently at first, then taking him in deeper when Yuzuru pulls at his hair and whimpers something in Elvish that Javi doesn’t need to understand to take his meaning.

He tastes heady, hot inside Javi’s mouth, and Javi’s never been as drunk on anyone else, never been so keen on pleasing them.

“Javi,” Yuzuru pants a few moments later, pulling Javi off and up.

Javi looks up, licks his lips. Yuzuru is a sight to behold, dark eyes dazed, hair in disarray, his chest flushed and heaving. Javi wants to make love to him until he falls apart completely, until neither one of them can breathe, until they forget where each one of them ends and the other begins.

“Yes?”

“I can’t – you need to stop, I can’t take this long,” Yuzuru breathes with something like wonder in his voice. “Feels too good,” he laughs, embarrassed.

Javi smooths a palm over his hip, his flat stomach, and crawls back up to kiss him. Yuzuru moans into his mouth, returning the kiss hungrily. His hands move down Javi’s back, pull him close, fingers digging into the flesh of his behind.

“I want – “ Yuzuru starts, then lets his legs fall open on either side of Javi’s hips, wanton and shameless and the best thing Javi has ever seen. 

Javi curses under his breath, and kisses Yuzuru’s forehead, his temples, behind his ear, on the side of his neck. “Sure?” he asks.

Yuzuru nods immediately. “You’re mine,” he breathes against Javi’s ear, making him shiver. “I want all of you.”

Javi nods, feverish. “Do you have any – oil, or something like it to – “ He waves his hand desperately, not sure how to get his meaning across. If Yuzuru’s never done this –

Yuzuru gives a little laugh. “I  _ know _ , Javi,” he says, and rolls away when Javi lets him, then reaches out to open a drawer in the small nightstand by the bed. “I know how things work, I simply have not done them with others,” Yuzuru tells Javi, then presses a crystal vial into his hand.

Javi blushes, chastised, but Yuzuru drops a sweet kiss on his lips, unperturbed by the misunderstanding. Javi sweeps some loose hair off of Yuzuru’s forehead, then pulls him in close again, flips them so that Yuzuru’s lying down on his back. Javi nuzzles his neck, then slips one of his thighs between Yuzuru’s, eliciting a light gasp from him. 

“Tell me if you’re uncomfortable,” he instructs, and uncaps the vial. The oil inside doesn’t have a scent but flows warmly over his fingers as he slicks them.

He coaxes and teases, careful and slow, first one finger, then two, and finally, three, by which point Yuzuru’s eyes are squeezed shut, his mouth hanging slack. He’s pushing his hips up against Javi’s hand, chasing more.

Javi withdraws his fingers carefully, and Yuzuru’s eyes fly open, searing into his. He pants something under his breath, then seems to realize he spoke in his own tongue. “Come to me,” he says, this time in common, and cups Javi’s face to pull him down into a bruising kiss.

When he finally sinks in, Javi feels his world dip off axis a little. “You’re so – Spirits – you’re –“ he mumbles, his brain not quite catching up. In the end, he only sighs, and clasps one of his hands against Yuzuru’s, feeling the bond between them like a physical thing, amplified by the intimacy, hot, flaring into vibrant life.

“Javi,” Yuzuru whispers, astonishment clear in his voice, then keens when Javi moves, his eyes fluttering. “Yes, this – oh – “

They find a rhythm, an up and down, hypnotic like waves as they move together. Javi feels light, like flying, lost in the sound of Yuzuru’s moans, his rapid breathing, and his heartbeat, so close and loud Javi could swear it’s thudding inside his own chest, thrumming inside his own body.

He feels Yuzuru’s thighs cinch around his hips, encircling him, urging him on, and on, and on, until Javi can’t think, can’t control himself, lost in pleasure. He reaches for Yuzuru with his hand, fumbling blindly, and it’s messy and imperfect, and somehow, none of it matters.

None of it matters because when Yuzuru cries out, it is Javi’s name that spills off his lips, and his eyes are trained on Javi’s, huge and bottomless as he finds his release, shuddering in Javi’s arms.

Javi is not sure when he started crying, but his eyes are wet and his mind is blank, and he moves one, two more times and then he’s crashing, falling, and losing himself, falling into completion, feeling the final pieces of the bonding magic snap together, two ends of string tied to an endless loop.

He closes his eyes, after, and collapses down, breathing in his lover, his heart, his soulmate, intoxicated with him. 

“You’re heavy,” he hears a moment later, and lifts his head to look at Yuzuru, who is smiling at him dreamily, his face glowing and his eyes soft. Yuzuru’s long fingers are cradling the back of Javi’s head, and something in the way he’s looking at him tells Javi that he does not really mean the complaint. Javi feels drunk, besotted, and so ridiculously happy he can barely contain it.

He laughs, and leans in for a sloppy kiss, then shifts so that he’s not pinning Yuzuru down with all his weight. He winces as they separate, and so does Yuzuru.

“Are you alright?” Javi asks, tracing the lines of his face with a fingertip – the arches of his eyebrows, the sharp cheekbones, the straight slope of his nose, the pronounced curve of his mouth. “Did I hurt you?” Javi props himself up on his elbows above Yuzuru to study him.

“No,” Yuzuru smiles. Then he blinks, eyes widening. “Javi,” he whispers and reaches up to touch Javi’s chest with his fingertips.

Javi follows his gaze, looks down at himself. Where the black web of markings had been sprawled all over his chest before, there is nothing now. Only skin, clear and unmarred except for the small scar where the arrow had hit him.

Javi draws a ragged breath… and dissolves into tears. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For once a good cliffhanger? Do I get brownie points? ;)


	9. A Decision Made

It seems as if even the weather changed to adjust to Yuzuru’s mood. The rainfall began during the night – he and Javi had been still awake, or rather slumbering lightly, then waking to make love again, then drifting off once more… Back then, it had seemed like a miracle, as everything about the night, the soft patter of rain against the roof and the windows soothing, almost musical. Now, as Yuzuru lies in bed, watching the regular rise and fall of Javi’s chest, gloom descends upon him.

In just a few hours, the Council will meet, and decide. And while the black stain has receded from Javi’s chest, its claim over his flesh and blood chased back by the bond, Yuzuru knows better. The physical manifestation of the curse is one thing… but he suspects the  _ kurosei _ will not give up so easily. Javi is still a target, still the one chosen for their dark ritual.

Yuzuru prays that his assumptions will hold, that he is right about the small and delicate loophole in the treaty that should protect Javi, now that they are united by the  _ unmei no hito  _ bond. If he is wrong, and if the Council does not decide in their favor…

Yuzuru shakes his head to dispel the thought. He doesn’t want to think about that just yet, or at all. They have a few hours until the Council meeting… and then they will see. Sighing, he moves closer to Javi, burrowing into the warm circle of his arms once again.

Javi mumbles something in his sleep, tugging Yuzuru closer still, until they’re nestled together like two pieces of a mosaic, a perfect fit. Yuzuru closes his eyes, listens to Javi’s even breath, and wills himself to relax, to rest. He may yet need his strength.

Javi wakes up some time later. Yuzuru is lying curled into him like a small spoon into a larger one, and Javi nuzzles the back of his neck with a happy, half-asleep sigh, wraps an arm around his chest, palm resting against Yuzuru’s heart. Yuzuru covers Javi’s strong hand with his own smaller one, Javi’s tan skin in contrast to his paler complexion. They match so well, he muses, despite their differences.

They stay like that for a while, trading lazy kisses once he turns around in Javi’s arms and smiles at him. Yuzuru would be happy to stay like this for the rest of the day – the rest of his life, really – but they have a meeting to attend later, and it is wiser to be ready, or as ready as they can be.

“Can we just… not go?” Javi murmurs, sleepy, into his temple. “You fixed me,” he adds, touching his own chest, “now we can just leave, take the horses and ride wherever we want…”

Yuzuru squeezes his eyes shut. He hates to interrupt the sweet intoxication and quiet wonder of last night, but it is inevitable.

“It’s not so simple,” he begins, then proceeds to explain. He watches as Javi’s drowsy smile gradually dims while he speaks, and he hates the world for doing this to them. “What we did, like I said – it seems to have worked well so far,” Yuzuru says in the end, and touches Javi’s chest reverently, caressing the newly cleared skin. The absence of the black lines is still a relief, even though he knows it doesn’t solve everything. “Saya and I really think it should bypass the treaty but – I cannot be completely sure. I’d rather not test the theory,” he finishes, a quiver in his voice.

Javi’s hand tightens around his. “It’s going to be fine,” Javi says, and he sounds way more confident than Yuzuru feels, way more hopeful. “I trust you. It’s going to work.”

Yuzuru nods, and holds on to Javi’s hand, as if the simple act of not letting go could stave off all the trouble in the world.

*

Yuzuru wishes he could still be holding on to Javi’s hand as they enter the King’s audience chamber. But it is not the place, he assumes, especially since he wants the Council to see him as level-headed and mature, wants to see a King’s heir for once, not a youngling who is not thinking clearly in his folly. He feels their gazes upon him as he enters, the servant by the doors announcing him as  _ Honored citizen Yuzuru, Prince of Kenkami and heir to King Takahiro _ ,  _ the caller of this council _ , and he feels himself straighten up under their scrutiny. His high-necked, embroidered robe chafes, but it is necessary, both to satisfy the expectations of what a prince should look like, and to cover the small purplish bruise on the side of his neck, a testament to the passion of his and Javi’s night of bonding. He wants to fidget, but resists the urge, walking solemn and outwardly calm to take his seat in the chamber, not by the king’s side this time, but across from where his father will be sitting on his throne, in the place reserved for petitioning citizens.

He hears the servant stutter a little as he announces Javi with nothing but _our guest_ _of the koshiri_ to his name, none of the usual courtesies afforded to him. Yuzuru bites back his frustration and waits for Javi, locking his eyes on him. If Javi realizes the slight – the servant did announce them both in Common tongue, as the meeting will be held in Common due to Javi’s presence – he doesn’t show it. His mouth is a thin, serious line, but the little nod he gives Yuzuru is sure, his eyes soft, and when they take their seat on the wooden bench, he sits closer than strictly necessary.

Saya comes in next, and sits in her usual place, to their father’s side. She looks as tense as Yuzuru feels, perhaps even more so. Yuzuru remembers one of the things she had said as they were discussing their plan –  _ if we are wrong about this, and I do this for you, I will have sent you both to certain death within a few days _ . Yuzuru had shrugged it off then, too intent on just giving Javi a chance, giving them both a chance,  _ any _ chance. Now it hits him: the guilt Saya will have to live with if the Council is not merciful today and if he is wrong… It makes his stomach clench to think that he had selfishly put his sister in such an impossible position. Then Saya gives him a small, encouraging nod, and Yuzuru is once again humbled by her generosity, her selflessness in helping him.

Daisuke strides in without sparing Yuzuru and Javi more than a brief glance, his face a cool mask as he takes his seat in one of the chairs arranged in a circle spanning from the throne to the bench Yuzuru and Javi are using, then back to the throne.

The six councilors all nod towards Yuzuru as they enter the chamber, and he returns the gesture politely. He knows all of them, has been made to sit in on more Council meetings than he would have liked, although the three of them that reside in Kenkami are the only ones that have known Yuzuru all his life, seen him grow up.

Yoshiie looks at him sternly before taking his seat, and Yuzuru is near certain his vote will not be in his favor.  _ He is disenchanted,  _ Yuzuru’s father had once told him,  _ you have ruined Yoshiie’s plans _ . Yuzuru had learned that the councilor had hoped Saya would remain the King’s only child, that Kibe – his son – could marry her. It doesn’t matter that Saya never liked Kibe at all – the councilor is still convinced Yuzuru is the one keeping his line from higher glory.

Councilor Ayuko, on the other hand, bestows an indulgent smile upon him and Javi as she settles into one of the high-backed chairs reserved for the councilors. Her face has more wisdom around the eyes than Yuzuru has seen on any other of his kin, her braided hair the color of moonlight. His mother had told him that Ayuko had known  _ her _ mother, as well as her mother’s mother before that, and still has not grown weary of the world, loving it with her whole heart, choosing to remain instead of passing on to the next journey.

The other four remain impassive, polite but expressionless, quiet except for the rustling of their robes.

The King is the last to arrive, the Queen walking in with him, and everyone rises to greet Yuzuru’s father – the seventh member of the full Council – and his mother. His father doesn’t look at him, seems to be looking through Yuzuru, but his mother meets his eyes, her gaze full of sadness.

“Please sit,” the King says, and waits for everyone to take their seats before he sits down on the throne, his eyes finally finding Yuzuru. Yuzuru feels vulnerable under his father’s heavy gaze, nervous as he is for Javi, for their joint fate.

“We are gathered here today to decide the matter of citizen Yuzuru’s request for Kenkami to shelter a  _ koshiri _ man.” Yuzuru’s father gestures subtly towards Javi, and there is nothing in his face, no malice, no concern, no care… Just indifference, as if the man Yuzuru is willing to risk everything for was nothing but a small, unimportant topic on his schedule. Yuzuru knows that that is what is expected of the King – to be objective, impassive, concerned only with the well-being and prosperity of his kingdom and its people. He still cannot help the prick of annoyance, closely followed by fear.

“As you have been made aware, the man has been marked by the  _ kurosei _ , chosen to embrace the Spirit of Death,” the king goes on, and Yuzuru closes his eyes briefly. It sounds so grandiose, put this way, and yet what his father is speaking of is murder – inexplicable, inexcusable murder of an innocent soul.

Everyone turns to look at Javi, and Yuzuru feels him stiffen beside him. He wishes he could reach out, thread their fingers together. He can tell that Javi’s heart is racing inside his chest, can feel an echo of his anxiety through their bond, so very fresh and alive between them. To his credit, Javi doesn’t flinch, doesn’t do anything but nod his head slightly, acknowledging that yes, this is indeed him. Then, to Yuzuru’s surprise, Javi raises his eyes and looks at each of the councilors in turn, his father last.

“My name is Javier. I know I am but a stranger to you,” he says. “But I would kindly ask you to consider my case. I am no enemy to elvenkind. In fact, I was not even convinced you existed up until recently,” he says. Nobody laughs, and Yuzuru wants to hug him. For trying, for the charming self-deprecating humor Yuzuru has only just started getting to know, for being brave and calm even knowing the animosity of some of Yuzuru’s kin towards him. Javi appears collected under the scrutiny of the full council, under the sharp gaze of the very man who is here to kill him. “I would like to live in peace. I would ask you to consider my case.”

“I understand the  _ koshiri  _ wants to live,” Yoshiie says, speaking as if Javi was not even there. “But what reason could the prince of Kenkami possibly have to want to protect this man?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow towards Yuzuru. His mouth twitches smugly. “Even at the cost of a threat to our people, of endangering the peace between us and our  _ kurosei  _ kin?”

All eyes turn towards Yuzuru. Some of the councilors are nodding. Some, he sees, shake their heads ever so slightly at Yoshiie’s not entirely respectful tone. Yuzuru doesn’t want to tell them. He feels like what he and Javi have is too precious to share with all of them, to expose for their scrutiny and judgement. Still, whatever else he says will not be taken seriously enough.

Therefore, he draws a calming breath, and speaks loud and clear: “He is my  _ unmei no hito _ .”

There is a moment of stunned silence. Yuzuru feels too hot, uncomfortable, as everyone’s eyes land on him at the same time, considering, judging. His skin is crawling, and his breath turns shallow and inefficient, like there is not enough oxygen in the air, his heart rabbiting inside his chest. Then he feels Javi’s hand close around his, warm where Yuzuru’s is cold and clammy even though he feels like he is burning up in his formal robes.

He focuses on that, the simple sensation of Javi there, anchoring him.

“How can we even be sure of this?” one of the councilors from further away, Kinji, asks into the silence, dubious, his brows drawn up.

“It is true,” Yuzuru’s mother says into the silence. “May I?” she asks Yuzuru, and he nods, even though he doesn’t really want them to see. It feels too intimate to show them the thread that binds him to Javi, bringing their souls together.

His mother pronounces the spell under her breath, and there it is, flaring into life, the red thread of destiny tying his left little finger to Javi’s, a complex tangle between and around them.

He hears surprised gasps, a murmur of voices, but none of them more clearly than his mother’s sudden yelp, pained and terrified. The councilors may see the thread, understand it for what it is based on the legends and stories they have heard, read, perhaps even witnessed on a lucky couple. But they cannot read magic the way his mother does, Yuzuru realizes. They do not know about the bond. His mother does. And she can barely compose herself, her eyes growing glassy for a moment while Yuzuru stares at her.

Then the moment is gone, and his mother lets the spell go, lets the thread dissolve back into its invisible, immaterial state.

“Well, then, that clears things up,” pronounces Ayuko, and opens her palms wide while she smiles at Yuzuru once again.

“What do you mean, honored Ayuko?” asks councilor Hiroyasu, from Kenkami’s furthest reaches. He looks weary from travel, and like he would rather not be there. 

Ayuko turns to address the chamber at large. “Who are we to tear apart what Destiny has brought together?” She smiles at Yuzuru, and then at Javi, too, before letting her gaze glide around the chamber as if challenging the others to disagree.

“She’s like my grandmother,” Javi whispers to Yuzuru, his voice as quiet as he can possibly make it. Ayuko still chuckles under her breath, but Javi, of course, cannot hear that. Yuzuru does, and were his stomach not tied up in knots, he would smile, too.

“I would like to remind you, honored fellow councilors, that the treaty between us and our kin the  _ kurosei  _ requires that we do not stand in their way as they pursue their ritual, that the offering to the Spirit of Death not be objected to,” Yuzuru’s father speaks into the circle, solemn, and Yuzuru grips Javi’s hand hard. “Still, Ayuko’s point is not without merit…” he adds, with a look towards Yuzuru, his eyes sliding to where his and Javi’s hands are linked. “I wonder what Destiny intended here?”

“Isn’t the Destiny of many more important than the Destiny of one?” chimes in Kinji, and several of the councilors nod, considering.

“Precisely,” adds Yoshiie. “The Prince and his – his  _ koshiri _ ,” he says, as if he was physically unable to call Javi by his name, or even name him Yuzuru’s soulmate, “will bring upon disquiet, possibly war, upon all of Kenkami. And for what? Selfish happiness?”

Yuzuru wants to speak up, tell Yoshiie off, but Javi gives his hand a squeeze, as if to hold him back.

“Love is seldom a selfish thing,” Ayuko says gently.

Silence spreads through the room, the councilors nodding, pensive. Daisuke sits ramrod straight, his face unmoved. Saya’s hands are balled into fists in her lap, while Yuzuru’s mother has one of her hands clasped around his father’s wrist, her face pale and stricken.

His father’s voice rings into the silence. “I propose we take a vote,” he says, inscrutable.

One by one, the councilors nod.

“Those in favor of citizen Yuzuru’s – and honored Javier’s – request, speak now,” Yuzuru’s father says, and Yuzuru doesn’t miss that now, at least, Javi’s name has been deemed important enough to be spoken out loud.

“I am in favor,” Ayuko speaks first, her eyes oddly tender as she nods towards Yuzuru and Javi. Javi smiles at her, a tense little twitch of his lips, but a smile nevertheless. Ayuko nods, satisfied.

“And me,” says Hiroyasu, with a curt nod in Yuzuru’s direction.

Yuzuru’s heart feels like it may break out of his chest, it’s slamming so hard against his ribcage. Two out of seven is not enough, not nearly enough. He can hear Javi breathing next to him, small rapid inhales.  _ Please _ , he thinks.

“I, too, am in favor,” says Yuzuru’s father, and Yuzuru’s heart leaps. His father! His father who has denied him, who has called him foolish, has given him his vote. Surely the other councilors will see their king’s wisdom and follow!

A few moments pass. Yuzuru’s momentary burst of excitement turns sour, turns into a fresh wave of terror. He looks at the remaining four councilors in turn, seeking out their eyes. Kinji’s are hard when Yuzuru meets his gaze. Iena, one of the councilors that reside right here, in Kenkami, averts her eyes, as does Shojiro, from the southern border of Kenkami. Yoshiie is wearing an expression that resembles a smirk.

The silence stretches out.

Eventually, when it is clear that nobody else will speak in Yuzuru’s favor, Yuzuru’s father speaks. “The Council has decided,” he says. “Your request is denied, citizen,” he tells Yuzuru. Then he addresses Javi: “Kenkami will not shelter you, Javier.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for posting a chapter like this in a time like this... I'm sure we don't need more angst in our lives right now, so I will promise that it will get better. <3 I hope everyone is safe and sound, wherever you are!


	10. A Flight of Fools

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [@MsDaring aka @kakimashouu on IG](https://www.instagram.com/kakimashouu/) kindly allowed me to color some of her amazing art for this story, so at the end of the chapter I'm sharing elf!Yuzu in color. :D I'm blown away by how much difference the hair color does! O__O

Yuzuru doesn’t realize that he has screamed out loud until the shocked faces of several of the councilors turn to him, staring. Ayuko, who is standing closest, reaches out as if to pat him on the shoulder.

“My boy,” he hears the ancient councilor says, but the blood rushing through his ears is too loud for him to decipher anything else.

“No,” he repeats, this time quieter. “Please. You cannot just sentence him to death, you can’t – “ He is rambling inappropriately, he knows, but the cold terror inside his heart is all he can focus on.  _ They’re going to let Javi die _ , is all he can think. “Are you going to fold your hands in your lap and let them murder an innocent person?!” he says, accusing as he looks around.

“It is not so black and white, Yuzuru,” he hears his father say, and there is something complex in his voice, in that statement, that Yuzuru cannot decipher. He sees Ayuko nod to that, a deep frown on her forehead.

“How is it not black and white?!” Yuzuru snaps. “There is  _ good _ and there is  _ evil _ and murdering people is wrong, it is evil. Even if he is a  _ koshiri _ , it does not make him any less of a person!”

There are murmurs all around, some councilors are shaking their heads, Yoshiie snorts in disdain at Yuzuru’s antics, Kinji heaves a sigh.

“Calm down, son,” his father tells him, while his mother steps forward as if to appease him. He dodges her touch, he can’t believe them, all of them -

“Yuzu.” Javi’s whisper is urgent, and close to his ear. Warm fingers close around his wrist, tug him back gently and Yuzuru realizes he had stepped forward into the circle of chairs, realizes that his hands are balled into fists so hard his nails are hurting his palms. “It’s fine, it is alright,” Javi tells him when Yuzuru’s eyes meet his, and some of the feverish terror that had been clouding his vision eases. He takes a breath. “I trust you, remember?” Javi says, and when Yuzuru nods, he turns to address the disgruntled assembly of councilors. He doesn’t let go of Yuzuru’s wrist.

“I understand,” Javi says, and there is a slight quiver in his voice, but that is all. He seems calm. “I accept your decision. I will leave Kenkami,” he promises and the councilors – the ones that are not looking at Javi with distaste – nod in acknowledgement. “I have just one last thing to ask. Please give me tonight to say goodbye,” he says, glancing at Yuzuru before he looks down, suddenly shy.

Ayuko gives a little sigh, but the rest of the councilors remain silent, looking at the king.

Yuzuru’s father sizes them up, first Javi, then Yuzuru, takes in the way Yuzuru opens his mouth, then closes it again when Javi gives him a minute shake of the head.

In the end, he turns towards the Dark Elf, still sitting in his chair, following everything with a stony face.

“Honored Daisuke?” Yuzuru’s father prompts, and Daisuke rises.

“King Takahiro, I thank you for considering my opinion. I do not oppose giving the  _ koshiri _ the remainder of this day and night to bid his goodbyes. However, I believe there is no need for the  _ koshiri _ to leave,” he says, and Yuzuru’s jaw drops. Then the Dark Elf goes on: “There is no need for him to leave, since his time has nearly come and I am here to guide his soul into the Spirit of Death’s embrace in the proper way.”

There is a pause. Yuzuru looks at the King, his father, and hopes against hope. His father swallows thickly, his expression somber. Then he nods, heavily. “So be it.” 

*

Yuzuru is not sure how they made it back to his cottage – he wanted to stay, scream at the council, beg his father to change their decision, fight Daisuke single-handed. But Javi had wrapped an arm around him and pulled him away, and Yuzuru let him, sagging against him as Javi walked them back.

He is still vacillating between fierce anger and dejected helplessness when the door closes behind them.

“Why did you not let me – do something?” he gasps into Javi’s shoulder, leaning into him.

“Yuzu,” Javi says, and cups his chin to lift it up, to make Yuzuru look at him. “There was no point anymore,” he says.

“How are you – how can you be so calm, Javi?” The words burst out, half angry, half broken. “They were talking about your – your death,” he forces the word out past the tightness in his throat, “as if it didn’t even matter. And I couldn’t even do anything, I couldn’t protect you like I had promised I would, I –“

He gulps for breath. It doesn’t matter to him that his own life is at stake, but Javi,  _ Javi _ whom he had wanted to save at any cost…

“Yuzu,” Javi says again, and his voice comes out slightly shaky now. “We have a plan,” he reminds Yuzuru, and reaches up to cradle his head, to smooth his hair behind his ears. “I told you I trust you, and your plan, and your research. It will work. I need you to believe in this.” He looks at Yuzuru and Yuzuru notices that Javi is scared, too, underneath all this, hanging on to the last shreds of his composure. “How else am I supposed to keep from going crazy, Yuzu?” he whispers, leaning his forehead against Yuzuru’s. His eyes are suspiciously bright.

Yuzuru nods. Javi is right. They have a plan, that was the whole purpose of the rushed bonding, just for this case...

“It’s not just my own life on the line now, is it?” Javi tells him. Yuzuru does a double-take, his eyes wide. How could Javi know –

“What do you mean?” he asks, stunned.

“I mean that – it’s one thing if I die, Yuzu. I had almost made peace with that, before… before you, before our bond,” he says, and reaches for Yuzuru’s hand, traces the faint silvery line of scar-tissue where it crosses Yuzuru’s palm. “Now… Now all I can think about is if I die, I will be leaving you behind. It can’t be pleasant, to tear this,” he gestures between them, indicating the invisible threads that run between them, tying their fates together. He shakes his head, and Yuzuru notices that there are tears in his eyes. “I’ll try my best to stay alive through this. But if I die, Yuzu,” he says, and kisses Yuzuru’s hand, caressing each knuckle with his lips, “you have to promise me you’ll try to… just… move on? Be happy?  _ Live _ .”

Yuzuru stares at him, at the honest emotion in Javi’s face. He wants to laugh, and cry at the same time. He wishes he could tell Javi, wishes he could have told him from the beginning, but he knows Javi never would have agreed to his plan had he known that one final condition…

Tears sting his eyes, and slip out, and he is so afraid that Javi will hate him once he learns the truth, but even more afraid that his plan will not work, that he had misinterpreted something in the old texts, that he has thrown his dice, placed his bets too haphazardly…

But there had been no other way, Yuzuru knows this, and it is better for Javi to live and hate him than for Javi to get murdered by the  _ kurosei _ . And so he draws a long breath, composes himself.

“You will not die,” he says and feels as if speaking the words somehow made them more true, more real. “But we need to get away from here,” he adds. An avoided confrontation is still better. Maybe they can outrun the  _ kurosei _ , and not test Yuzuru’s theory, or not for a while…

There is a loud knock on the door. Yuzuru twists around, and moves to stand in front of Javi, even though he doesn’t have his bow, not even his daggers.

Then the door flies open without warning, despite having been locked.

The Queen stands in the door, tall and willowy, her carefully coiffed hair fluttering about her as she steps in, tossing off her rain-damp cloak.

“Mother,” Yuzuru stammers. She looks pale, still, but her eyes are full of fury.

“You,” she says, pinning Yuzuru with a glare that would make him shrink back if he was younger, if he didn’t have Javi to think of. “You insolent, stubborn, foolish child!” she snaps, but keeps her voice low.

Yuzuru squares his shoulders, ready to defend his decisions, to stand in the face of her anger, but her attention snaps to Javi.

“And you!” she says in Common, threatening. “How could you  _ agree _ to this madness, if you supposedly care about my son! How could you agree to this bonding, knowing that – that – “ her voice breaks around the word, though, and she doesn’t finish, her face crumpling in pain. Javi only stares at her.

“I – I’m not sure what – “ he starts.

“He didn’t know,” Yuzuru says quickly, switching to their own language. “He still doesn’t know. I have kept the truth from him,” he says, and looks at the floor. “Please don’t tell him now,  _ okaa _ . I’m not ready for it,” he adds quietly.

His mother stands there in the middle of the room, looking from Yuzuru to Javi, suddenly seeming much smaller than moments before.

“I’m sorry,” Yuzuru whispers.

She shakes his head. “You are a fool, Yuzuru, but at least you are a fool with good intentions,” she says, and sighs, then gives Javi a weak smile, switching back to Common. “Please accept my apologies, Javier,” she says. “He is my child and I – “ she waves her hand. “I worry.”

Javi only stares at her for a moment, then mumbles: “You don’t need to apologize.”

She studies him for a brief moment, then turns back to Yuzuru. “I could only sense the bond when I cast the revelation spell, child. But if you think the  _ kurosei’s  _ mage who has placed this curse on your chosen one did not sense the bond’s effect on their own magic the moment the bond was made, you could not be more wrong.”

Yuzuru groans weakly. He did not think of that, of course he did not. He is no mage, he does not know how these things work, and Saya… well, she probably did not think of it either, focused as she was on getting the bonding done right.

“You need to leave Kenkami,” Yuzuru’s mother says. “They are guarding you, of course,” she adds and Yuzuru blinks at her. He had not thought of that, either. “You will need to – “

“Yuzuru!” It’s Saya, bursting in through the door the way his mother had, moments before. She stops mid-stride when she sees their mother. “Oh – oh, no,” she stammers.

The queen looks at her, and opens her mouth to speak, then seems to change her mind. “You and I will have words later, Saya,” she says, and Saya seems to wilt a little, biting her lip. “But first,” she turns back to Yuzuru and Javi, “first I need to help these two children flee.”

*

Javi thought that nothing would make him more nervous than Yuzuru’s mother scrutinizing him as if she could see through him.

She had looked at him long and hard, her ageless elven features – so much like Yuzuru’s, in fact – smooth but those knowing eyes sharp, and said: “Take care of my son.”

Queen Yumiko had not needed to add the  _ or else _ for Javi to get her meaning. He had nodded. “I will.” It had been an honest promise, an easy one – if only he were given the chance, he would, for the rest of his life, make sure Yuzuru was safe, and healthy, and happy. He would do it gladly.

He had thought that things could not get worse when, after a tearful goodbye from Yuzuru, both Saya and the Queen had offered small bows – which Javi had returned, bowing lower than they had, something he had learned was a sign of respect. Then both women had pulled him into brief embraces, making Javi stiffen with uncertainty.

He had thought he could not be more nervous than he had been then, or during the council meeting, with his heart in his throat and fear like a cold fist clenching his heart…

And yet here he is, his stomach twisting as he watches Yuzuru strap lightly ornamented leather breast-armor over his shirt, pull on his archer glove, sweep his hair up into an efficient ponytail at the top of his head. Yuzuru looks like he is preparing for battle, and Javi hates it.

“I could go alone,” he tries again, a last-ditch effort to keep Yuzuru safe, tucked away in Kenkami. “We could… meet later. Once the  _ kurosei  _ realize that they cannot harm me, it will be safer for you to – “

The glare Yuzuru gives him would make a stronger man quail. Javi shuts his mouth, and instead adjusts his own leather vest, fiddling with the straps, then checks that his sword is where it is supposed to be for what feels like the hundredth time.

Yuzuru tucks two daggers into sheaths strapped to his thighs, then turns to Javi. His expression softens. “I will not let you out of my sight,” he promises.

Javi gives a small, choked up laugh. “I’m not worrying about myself, Yuzu,” he says, and touches his hand to Yuzuru’s face. Yuzuru leans into the caress and moves closer, bringing their lips together for a brief kiss, barely a brush of mouths. Javi misses him the instant he pulls back, but reminds himself that there will be time for this later. Hopefully.

Yuzuru gulps as he steps back. “We should go now,” he says then, his voice quiet but resolute. Javi nods. They should. He sweeps one last glance around the cottage, looking at all the things Yuzuru is leaving behind – just physical reminders of much greater things he is turning away from in yet another betrayal of his kin – and wonders how he could possibly be worth it.

Before he figures out how to voice this, though, Yuzuru turns to pick up his bow and quiver and swing them onto his back. “Ready?” he asks Javi.

Javi doesn’t feel ready. The sight of Yuzuru like this, all hard edges and battle-ready, his lovely face cold and uncompromising, fills him with a gnawing sort of fear. But he nods anyway, and sends up a quick prayer to the Spirit of Life, to Destiny, to whatever higher power might aid them tonight.

The night is fresh after the day’s rain. The skies have cleared as darkness descended upon Kenkami, and the sky above them is a black canvas strewn with gleaming stars. They slip out of the cottage unseen by the guards, unheard, all but invisible under Queen Yumiko’s spell.

Yuzuru leads the way – not along the broad walkways through the heart of Kenkami they had taken when they had gone to visit Effie in the stables, but along narrow pathways that meander through the trees, keeping them hidden.

Kazuki will have saddled the horses, and packed their saddle-bags with a few supplies, all done covertly, and with yet more magic to obscure the fact that him and Yuzuru are sneaking out of Kenkami in violation of the King’s ruling…

They are nearly at the back of the stables where Kazuki will have brought the horses, when Yuzuru suddenly whirls around, side stepping Javi to stand in front of him, his daggers in his hands before Javi even hears anything, or can draw his sword.

“Just as I expected, Prince Yuzuru,” a disembodied voice speaks out of the darkness, then a figure emerges from the shadows between the trees. Javi recognizes Daisuke, the Dark Elf. He is holding a bow, arrow nocked and ready to be released, and pointed straight at Yuzuru’s heart. “Your magic may have fooled the guards, and anyone of your kin who would seek to stop your flight… But I assume we are a little different, after all, than you  _ shirosei _ , in the way we think. And therein lies your failure. I am not here to stop you, not really. I am here to perform my duty, and I do not care whether it happens here, or outside the boundaries of your settlement, or even outside of the kingdom. Now, or tomorrow, or the day after. I will let you leave, and I will pursue you, until my duty is done.”

Javi sees Yuzuru crouch deeper into his knees, readying himself to spring. “Then I will fight you,” Yuzuru hisses.

“For a  _ koshiri _ ? Regardless of what he means to you, Prince Yuzuru, please think about the gift you have been given, a gift that has been dearly paid for – your life, as long as the world pleases you. A gift you would squander on defending a mere man,” Daisuke’s arrow doesn’t move. Neither does Yuzuru. Daisuke grimaces. “I will strike you down before you can come close enough to reach me.” The bow groans, the quivers as Daisuke draws it even further.

Everything seems to slow down to a painful, ridiculous scene. There is no way Yuzuru could escape a shot like this one, and Daisuke does not even need to be a particularly talented archer to hit true... Javi can see it in his mind’s eye, the arrow singing through the air, covering the short distance, the sickening sound of it piercing Yuzuru’s leather plate with the crude force of a close-range shot, Yuzuru’s gasp as it strikes his heart…

And all for him, for him, and his damn curse. He has fought to keep Laura safe, to keep his village safe, and he will fight to keep Yuzuru safe, too.

“NO!” Javi feels slow, like wading through mud, as he moves and shoves Yuzuru behind him, holding his palms out in a pathetic attempt to stop Daisuke from what he clearly intends. “Don’t! Take me, leave him.”

He feels the Dark Elf’s gaze on him, skipping from his face, to his hands… The elf starts visibly, and Javi panics, worried that he will lose control, release the arrow by accident –

Daisuke does no such thing, however, the bow as steady as before. His eyes, though, snap to Yuzuru, and when he speaks, his voice is full of disbelief: “You fool! You’re  _ bonded _ !”

Javi feels Yuzuru shift behind him, but doesn’t dare look away from the Dark Elf, whose arrow is now pointing at Javi, effectively blocking his former aim.

“One shot,” Daisuke whispers. “One shot is all it would take, for both of you.” His face, illuminated by the moonlight filtering through from above, seems to twist, contort in some incomprehensible pain.

Javi hears Yuzuru’s breath behind him, quick and harsh, and can nearly feel his heart echo through his own, an erratic pattern carrying over the bond the way a tug of a trapped fly travels the strings of a spiderweb.

“Please take me,” he repeats, terrified by Daisuke’s words, confusing as they are, terrified by Yuzuru being here, so close, so exposed, in danger…

Daisuke looks at Javi, at his hand still held up. He looks at Yuzuru behind him. His face is a grimace that Javi can’t read. When Daisuke lets out a groan, Javi would almost think the elf is in pain, but there is nothing visibly wrong with him, nothing about his body that indicates an injury…

Then Daisuke moves. The tension in his muscles slackens. He lowers the bow, points the arrow at the ground before un-nocking it. It hangs limply from his fingers.

“Go,” he hisses, and his voice is full of vitriol. “Go before I change my mind.” 


	11. A Precious Gift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost there...

The forest is dark. That is all Javi notices as they ride out into the night. The thick moss and foliage on the floor muffle their horses’ hooves, and the darkness should play in their favor… would play in their favor, if Javi had the same senses as Yuzuru.

Leaving Kenkami behind them, they quickly pick up speed, galloping away from the settlement at break-neck pace. Javi wishes he could close his eyes and just trust Effie, trust Yuzuru and Kōri in front of him to guide him through. But he keeps his eyes on the narrow path they follow, even though they are nearly useless in the moonlight, barely seeing anything that is not directly in front of him.

His heart is in his throat, hammering madly – part lingering shock from the encounter with the Dark Elf, part reaction to the forest as it seems to hurl itself at him from all directions.

A stray bramble whips out of the darkness, and Javi is too slow to dodge it, catching a sharp sting against his cheek. He manages to stay quiet but his eyes water, and the world turns blurry around him. He barely keeps his hands on the reins, manages to give them a tug, slow Effie down.

“Yuzu,” he calls out, keeping his voice low. He feels disoriented.

All he sees of Yuzuru is a white blur – Kōri’s hair like silver in the moonlight, Yuzuru’s face peeling out of the dark, his cloak whipping around him as he reins his horse in to stop beside Javi.

“I’m here,” he says, and waits for Javi to blink away the tears, to catch proper sight of him.

“I can’t go so fast,” Javi admits, hanging his head. “I can’t see and I don’t know these paths, I’m sorry, I know we need to –“ he grinds out, frustrated, feeling inferior but aware of his own limitations. “Just leave me, ride ahead, I’m only slowing you down. I’ll ride after you,” he says.

Yuzuru all but growls. “I’m not leaving you, Javi,” he says, voice tight, and Javi realizes that Yuzuru, too, is on the brink of despair. “We ride together.”

True to his word, Yuzuru slows down, which means that Javi can maybe hope he will not die with his skull shattered against a tree-trunk.

They ride for what feels like hours; Javi loses all sense of time, focusing on the up-and-down movement of Effie’s back under him, on staying up, on not losing sight of Yuzuru plowing on and on in front of him. He has no idea whether they are riding south, or west, or east. Not north, but he only knows that because north is where the  _ kurosei  _ dwell. His body aches, made weak by lying in bed for several days, his thighs chafe against the saddle, and the scar in his shoulder feels as tight as a knot. Still, he stays on his horse and pushes through.

The sky has just begun to lose its inky blackness when Yuzuru finally stops, and looks around, eyes scanning the small clearing by the narrow river they have arrived at.

There has been an intimidating sharpness to him since they have left Kenkami, but now his shoulders seem to droop a little, and his eyes betray his weariness when he says:

“We need to cross.”

Javi nods, and begins to dismount, nearly toppling over as he slides off Effie’s back.

“Not right now,” Yuzuru adds, gently, and dismounts, then proceeds to tie Kōri’s reins to a slender tree.

Javi sags against Effie’s side, relieved. Still, he makes himself ask: “Are we safe here? Maybe we should continue?”

Yuzuru shakes his head. “We will have to confront them sooner or later,” he says. “I wish we didn’t have to but – my mother was right. The  _ kurosei _ know that we have done something to the curse. They will pursue us.” 

They settle down in the grass, leaning against a large tree trunk side by side, letting the horses graze.

“You should rest,” Yuzuru says, and reaches for Javi’s hand, a simple gesture that is infinitely comforting. Javi leans closer, just lets himself feel the warmth of Yuzuru’s palm against his, the way it makes his heart sing. He wants nothing more than to drop his head on Yuzuru’s shoulder and sleep, but that would be selfish.

“What about you?” he mumbles, and feels his eyes begin to grow heavy, as if someone had tied iron weights to his eyelids. “You are exhausted, too,” he adds.

“Sleep,” Yuzuru whispers, and strokes soft fingers through Javi’s hair. Javi lets his eyes flutter shut. “I’ll wake you up in a while, then you can take a shift.”

*

Yuzuru starts awake. His heart is beating madly inside his chest, and he wonders if he just had a bad dream – then he remembers where he is. He blinks, notices the filtered light, dawn creeping in. He must have fallen asleep – he shouldn’t have fallen asleep! He sits up abruptly, reaching for his bow by his side, his palm closes around the reassuring wood –

“Not so fast, Prince.”

Yuzuru freezes, ice-cold terror crashing through him. He feels Javi stir beside him, mumble a sleepy  _ what?! _ – Javi! Unprotected, vulnerable. How did he fall asleep, how could he not hear them approach, how –

Yuzuru moves to stand, to defend Javi with all he has, scrambling to his feet.

“I said not so fast,” the voice repeats, and Yuzuru now sees the arrows pointed at him from between the trees, from across the river. A silhouette peels out of the misty dawn, flanked by two Dark Elves with drawn bows. “Put the bow down.”

The  _ kurosei _ . Yuzuru does as they say, drops his bow back into the grass.

Javi sits up beside him, then gasps as he takes in the scene. “Shit.”

All Yuzuru can do is hold his arm out, try to move in front of Javi. He agrees with the sentiment.

The _kurosei _woman in front of him shifts her eyes to Javi, one eyebrow quirking up. She is not tall, but carries herself in a way that makes her appear so. Her hair is woven into elaborate braids threaded with gold and her armor is finer than that of the two men by her sides.

“Is this our quarry, then?” she asks, looking back over her shoulder.

A robed  _ kurosei _ steps forth, and there is something about him that immediately makes Yuzuru realize that he is a mage.

“Yes, my queen,” he says, wrinkling his nose.

“Such fuss for such a crude man,” the leader – Queen Midori of the  _ kurosei _ , it would appear – says in Common.

If Yuzuru could hate her any more right now, he would. As is, he can only glare at the elf. “Let us go,” he tells her.

“Young Prince, I do not know what kind of education your father has bestowed upon you, but surely you must know by now that this is not how the treaty works,” the  _ kurosei _ Queen says. “I knew King Takahiro when he was your age, and I am surprised he has allowed this nonsense to go as far as it has. I had merely hoped to use this opportunity to parlay with your father, but when Daisuke informed me you had escaped Kenkami with the  _ koshiri _ in tow… “ she shakes her head, disapproval clear in her voice.

Then she shrugs. “Take the  _ koshiri _ ,” she instructs coolly, and her soldiers move forward.

“YOU CANNOT!” Yuzuru roars, and puts himself between Javi and the elves, pushing Javi behind him despite Javi’s hiss of protest. 

“Step aside, boy,” the Queen says, an edge of irritation in her voice. “You know his soul is forfeit. I promise that Daisuke will guide him gently into Death’s embrace.”

“You can’t have him,” Yuzuru grinds out. He feels numb with fear. He can feel Javi behind him, restless, scared, trying to do something stupid, like put himself between Yuzuru and the  _ kurosei.  _ “Don’t,“ he mouths at Javi. “Please.”

“I am sure you know about the treaty, at least?” Queen Midori is saying as if she was speaking to a particularly dumb child. “His soul belongs to us, as stated in the agreement.”

“The agreement also states that no elven blood shall be spilled in your ritual ever again,” Yuzuru shoots back, angry at the way she is treating him, at the way she talks about Javi as if he was a mere commodity, not a living, breathing person.

“That is why I asked you to move,” the dark Queen says, clearly out of patience. “I do not desire your soul, only his.”

Yuzuru inhales. Sends a prayer to the Spirit of Life in his thoughts. “His soul is protected by the treaty,” he says. “ _ No elven blood shall be spilled _ .” He holds his breath.

The Queen laughs. “He is no elf, you fool.” She nods at her soldiers, who spring into action.

“He  _ is  _ now,” Yuzuru snaps, and twists to reach for Javi’s wrist. He throws up his own hand, palm forward, and lifts Javi’s hand with the other. Javi understands, opening his palm as well. The twin scars seem to gleam silver in the morning light.

The Queen starts, and her gaze slides from their hands, to the mage standing beside the two soldiers.

“ _ Unmei no hito _ ,” the mage whispers, a deep frown on his face. “Impossible.” At the Queen’s sharp look, he whispers a quick spell. The air seems to prickle around them. Yuzuru feels the fine hairs at his nape rise.

A moment passes. Then the mage says: “He is not lying, my Queen. The  _ koshiri _ and him are united by the sacred  _ unmei no hito  _ bond. They are one.  _ One blood _ .” He throws a look of disgust at Javi. “The mortal is of elven blood now.”

Everyone goes still. Yuzuru can’t breathe. It worked, it seems. He was right about the loophole. Javi is safe –

“You have twisted the rules,” the Queen says then, voice ice cold. Her face is a mask of barely contained rage. “Spat on our people’s law.” She is looking at Yuzuru, her eyes burning like coals. “You are a traitor, Prince of Kenkami, and I will take your life for your base treachery.”

Several things happen at once.

The Queen’s soldiers move, the sound of bow strings being pulled tight twanging into the quiet morning. A single snap of a bow being released.

Javi shouts beside him, shoves Yuzuru aside, spreading his arms as if he was going to protect him with his bare hands.

“Hold the attack!” somebody calls from behind Yuzuru.

Yuzuru twists while stumbling from Javi’s shove. Sees the arrow that had been shot, hanging in mid-air, its head hovering a hand’s length from Javi’s chest.

He cries out, catches himself against the tree-trunk behind him. He spots his father’s face as he steps into the clearing. Kenkami’s guard is arrayed behind him on horseback, and his father’s mage stands by his side with her hand held aloft, her magic trapping that loose arrow.

“Ah. Honored Takahiro,” the Queen of the  _ kurosei _ barks. “Your child has soiled our agreement. Will you deny the  _ kurosei _ justice?”

“My Honored Queen Midori,” Yuzuru’s father speaks, looking straight at the queen. “Justice is a complex thing, and should not be sought in anger.”

When Midori opens her mouth to speak, he raises his hand. “My son is young, and foolish, and has crossed your kind most unwisely,” he says, and casts a glance at Yuzuru. Yuzuru wants to quail under that gaze, such is the disappointment in his father’s eyes. “I ask you for mercy on his behalf, for the sake of peace. I will punish him for his deeds, of course.”

“Punish him?” the Queen laughs.

“Exile,” Yuzuru’s father says, and Yuzuru feels the word like a heavy boulder dropped upon his chest. Exile means never seeing his kin again. His mother, father, Saya. His friends, Kazuki, Akira… everyone he holds dear. He swallows. His eyes dart to Javi of their own volition, colliding with Javi’s. Javi, alive, real beside him. And just like that, Yuzuru can breathe again. He can live, even exiled, as long as he has this,  _ them _ .

“Exile?!” Midori shakes her head. “And that is how much you value our way of life? Our sacred tradition? The thing that sustains us, keeps us who we are?” Then the queen notices something. Yuzuru looks back over his shoulder, at the faces of the Kenkami soldiers, the sheer distaste written upon them.

The _ kurosei _ ’s Queen grimaces. “Oh, you have forgotten, have you not, that we are not that different. You sneer at us, look down upon us, you  _ shirosei _ ,” she spits the name as if it was poison. “You think you are better than us? Has your king not told you? Do you not know?”

At the blank expressions of Kenkami’s guards, she goes on, incensed: “The gift of immortality – do you think it is a given? Your birthright?” She laughs when she sees the confused faces. Yuzuru’s face is one of them. He has no clue what the queen is alluding to. “Takahiro, you have coddled them, kept them innocent in their ignorance. Even your son,” she looks at Yuzuru now. “So young, so unspoiled. Do you not know, young prince, that your eternal life comes at a price?!”

_ _

Yuzuru only stares at her.

“ _ His  _ life,” she nods towards Javi. “One short, pure  _ human _ life every fifty or so years – in exchange for our longevity. A very lucrative deal, a small price to appease the Spirit of Death, if you ask me.”

There are gasps all around, murmurs as the elves turn to speak among themselves. The  _ kurosei  _ remain impassive, clearly aware of all this. Yuzuru’s father sighs.

“Oh yes,” the Queen says. “You, too, benefit from our sacrifice, from the blood on our hands,” she finishes, gesturing at the guards. Then her gaze turns back to Yuzuru. “Death is the only worthy punishment for such blatant disrespect.” 

The silence that settles over the clearing is an uncomfortable one. Yuzuru stares at the elven Queen. He is not afraid of her, not for himself – but if he dies… He glances at Javi, at the wild confusion in his eyes, at the arrow now lying on the forest floor in front of him. He has not come all this way, done all this, just to have everything come crashing down like this.

But before he can speak up, another voice rings through the clearing. “My Queen, if I may?” Daisuke steps forth, bows deeply to Midori. She nods magnanimously. Daisuke glances at Yuzuru first, then at Javi beside him, and speaks in Common. “Prince Yuzuru is already sworn to Death’s embrace,” he says, quietly, his voice like a knife. “He is doomed. He has sealed his own fate when he bonded to the  _ koshiri _ .” Now Daisuke looks at Javi, his mouth cruel as he says: “He has thrown away the gift of elvenkind. For all means and purposes, he is dying already.”

The Queen seems to ponder this, expression thoughtful.

Yuzuru stares at Daisuke, speechless. It’s like two forces tearing him apart – relief, perhaps even gratitude, for Daisuke may just have handed him, and by extension Javi, a way out. On the other hand, helpless anger – when he darts a look at Javi, Javi is staring at him, open-mouthed, eyes wide and terrified, shock and betrayal written all over his face.

“ _ Yuzuru _ ,” Javi whispers, and Yuzuru wants to talk to him now, explain, tell him the truth, gather him in his arms and not let go, never let go. But there are other things to worry about now – not more important, but more imminent.

“You are right, Daisuke,” the Queen surmises. “I never would have thought of it. It seems the foolishness of bonding to a  _ koshiri _ is too great for me to grasp,” she shakes her head, then looks up at Yuzuru’s father. “King Takahiro, under the circumstances, I choose not to sully my hands with your traitorous son and his companion. My people will do our ancient duty, and seek another to take his place, as must be done,” she nods towards Javi. Yuzuru feels something cold twist in his stomach.  _ Another _ … But he has no time, or space, to dwell on that thought right now. “I hope my goodwill shall be remembered by the  _ shirosei _ .”

Yuzuru’s father bows to Midori, and Yuzuru feels a flash of shame at how low the bow is. “I thank you, honored Queen Midori. Your wisdom shall not be forgotten by Kenkami.”

Then his father turns to him, and Yuzuru nearly crumples under the weight of that gaze. “Citizen Yuzuru,” he says, voice stern and his expression blank. “You are exiled from the kingdom of Kenkami. You are to leave and not cross its borders again, under the threat of death.”

Yuzuru swallows past the sudden tightness in his throat. “I understand, my King,” he says.

His father’s face falls then. “Farewell, son,” he adds, and turns away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you are all doing well and staying afloat in these difficult times! <3


	12. A New Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who has left comments on the previous chapters! I am sorry I have not managed to respond to them all yet (I do still work full-time, even though it is from home now), but I read them and rejoice!
> 
> I hope the final chapter before the epilogue finds you all well. <3

The  _ kurosei _ leave, drawing back into the forest. The King of Kenkami leaves, and his entourage with him. He casts a single look back at Yuzuru, lingering, sorrowful, but final. Yuzuru feels the tears inside his throat, lets them spill. He will never see his father again. Likely not his mother, either, or his sister.

He turns to Javi. The only person he has left, the person he has given up everything for.

“Javi,” he says brokenly, reaching out.

“Don’t,” Javi says and steps back to avoid Yuzuru’s touch. Yuzuru flinches. It hurts, more than he had expected even. Then again, he had not been planning on Javi finding out this way, from a stranger…

“I’m sorry – “ he begins, dropping his hands back down to let them hang limply by his sides.

“You  _ lied to _ me,” Javi says, and his face crumples. Yuzuru opens his mouth, but Javi shakes his head. “Not now,” he says, and turns away to walk over to Effie, who is rolling her eyes, clearly still unsettled from the earlier confrontation.

Yuzuru bites back his response. He cannot bite back the tears, and so he lets them flow until all he can taste is salt, and all he can see is blurred outlines.

He isn’t sure how he manages to swing himself into Kōri’s saddle, but he does, even though his limbs feel leaden. He buries his fingers into the stallion’s mane but the comfort it gives him is a weak one. Listlessly, he follows Javi and Effie as they ride into the shallow river by the clearing and cross it, then continue through the forest. He doesn’t know where they are going, almost doesn’t care, as long as it is forward, as long as it is away… away from Kenkami, and everyone he has ever loved, except for the man in front of him. The sun rises above them and the forest begins to thin as they ride in utter silence.

Yuzuru is not sure how many hours pass. The bond is stretched uncomfortably between them, making him anxious, reminding him with every breath that this is wrong, this is not how it should be. Still, it is his fault. He should have been honest. 

They finally stop when the sun has passed its zenith, and the forest has opened up to reveal a lake sparkling in the shallow valley that lies beneath them.

“This is lake Enol,” Javi says when Yuzuru rides up beside him. His face is closed off, his mouth a thin line. “I know where we are.”

“Javi – “ Yuzuru starts, but Javi gives a shake of his head, then spurs Effie on, setting out down the hill towards the shore of the lake.

Yuzuru follows, trusting Kōri to carry him safely. He has no energy left to hold on to the reins. His hands feel weak, his whole body does, shaking and sapped of strength. It is a miracle he manages to stay in the saddle.

They reach the northern shore of the lake when the sun is well into its slow descent towards the hills in the west, and trot along it for a while until Javi finds a small sandy beach half hidden behind trees and shrubbery.

Javi dismounts, lets Effie drink, and Yuzuru does the same, biting his tongue, waiting, even though everything inside him is screaming in despair. Every time he glances at Javi, Javi looks away, staring out at the surface of the water, busying himself with this or that. 

It’s only once they have washed off in the lake, and eaten from their provisions, once Javi has built and kindled a small fire that flickers happily in the approaching dusk, that Javi finally looks up and meets Yuzuru’s eyes.

“You’re dying,” he says, and his voice catches horribly as he does, coming out as a croak. “What did the dark elf mean, when he said –“ Javi swallows, then tries again: “When he said that by bonding to me, you have doomed yourself?”

Yuzuru bows his head. His own voice wavers when he speaks: “It means that… I will die,” he admits, at last. It almost feels like a relief to finally say it – or it would, if the expression on Javi’s face was not so full of pain. “The bond, it makes us one – in life. In death. When you die, I do, too.”

Javi stares at him. “You did not tell me this,” he says, voice hoarse, raw with disbelief. “You let me enter this – this  _ sacred bond,  _ and you didn’t even tell me the truth about it!” Javi’s voice spikes, anger spilling over.

“You never would have agreed to it if I had,” Yuzuru counters, swallowing thickly.

“YOU’RE RIGHT,” Javi yells. “I never would have – Spirits, I can’t believe this!”

“I’m sorry,” Yuzuru mumbles. “I wanted to tell you but I was so afraid you’d refuse to do it. It was the only way, I only wanted to keep you safe and alive!“ His voice fails him at that, and an ugly sob wrecks through him instead.

Javi stares at him. Then some sort of realization seems to hit him, and terror flashes across his face. “You could have died,” he chokes out, all anger gone from his voice. “When the elf tried to stop us, in Kenkami – you could have died. And then later, again, I – I wanted to  _ protect you _ , thinking – you could have  _ DIED _ !” It is a breathless, gut-twisting sob, and Yuzuru looks up to see Javi’s terrified eyes swimming in tears.

Then Javi’s hands are in his hair, cradling his face, pulling him close.

“You could have been dead with me, Yuzu, and I wouldn’t even have known what I was doing until it was too late,” he’s whispering, feverish, pressing kisses onto Yuzuru’s temple, his forehead, the corner of his mouth. “I could have gotten you killed, too,” Javi sobs, and wraps his arms around him, holding him so tightly Yuzuru can barely breathe. Yuzuru doesn’t mind.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and hugs Javi back, and the relief of having him here, in his arms, warm and alive and finally out of danger, is enough to make his knees buckle. Javi goes down with him, sinking onto the sand still warm from the day’s sun, holding him as they sit, tangled up in one another. “I’m sorry, I should have told you, I understand if you hate me now, I’m sorry you’re all tied up in this bond now – “

_ _

Javi looks up at that, staring in incomprehension. His palms are hot and steady on the sides of Yuzuru’s face.

“What are you talking about?” he says, shaking his head. “How could I ever – you’re so  _ daft _ , Yuzu!” And then Javi kisses him, smashing their lips together abruptly, teeth clanking. It’s desperate, and clumsy, and Yuzuru feels like new life is being poured into him as he tastes Javi’s lips, the salt of tears – his or Javi’s, he isn’t sure – and breathes Javi in. “You are so daft,” Javi repeats once they pull apart to breathe. “I  _ love  _ you. I love you more than anything, more than life,” Javi tells him, wiping at the fresh tears on Yuzuru’s cheeks with his hands. “And I would do it all again, bond myself to you again, if it means I get to spend my life with you.”

Yuzuru laughs, choked up, a mess, and reaches for Javi’s hand, lays it against his heart.

For a moment, they just sit there, looking at each other, nothing but their breath, the crackling fire and the lapping water of the lake to be heard.

Then Javi speaks again: “You threw away immortality,” he says, shaking his head.

Yuzuru shrugs. “It’s worth it.” At Javi’s raised eyebrows, he explains: “I know it seems crazy but I did think about it, Javi. I could live an immortal life… eternal like the stars,” he raises his eyes up to where the first few stars have appeared in the darkening sky, “but just as cold, without love.” He shakes his head a little. “Or I could live a short life, a  _ human _ life, filled with warmth, and love, and happiness.”

He looks at Javi, at the tiny lines around his eyes, at the way his hair curls above his forehead, a little unruly, at the soft curve to his mouth as Javi sits there, a small half-smile on his lips.

“It really was no choice at all,” Yuzuru says, his heart warm, and full, and leans in to kiss his soulmate.

*

“Ready?” Javi asks with a smile that seems more than a little nervous. It’s not helping to calm Yuzuru’s nerves at all, but Yuzuru nods and returns the smile. It is already odd enough to be standing in the middle of a  _ koshiri _ village at the crack of dawn. He supposes it cannot get much odder.

Javi knocks. Waits. Then knocks again. Waits again. Just as he raises his hand to knock a third time, the door flies open.

“This better be urgent or I will – “

The young woman standing in the doorway does not finish her sentence. Yuzuru watches as she drops the mug she is holding, and barely manages to hop aside before black liquid spatters in all directions, the mug shattering as it hits the ground. She stares mutely for a moment, her eyes – so much like Javi’s, he notices, but a notch darker – as wide as saucers, her mouth agape.

“YOU!” she then screams and lunges forward to throw herself at Javi. Her hand lands on Javi’s face with a resounding slap before Javi can catch her, holding her wrists. Yuzuru wonders if he should intervene, but the woman – Laura, clearly – dissolves into ugly sobs after that first bout of anger. “You – you horrible – Javier, you! I sent to Rovia, and nobody had seen you there, you little shit, I thought – I thought – “ She collapses into Javi’s arms, crying into his shoulder, clutching at his shirt with claw-like hands. 

“I’m so sorry, Laura. I am so sorry,” Yuzuru hears Javi whisper into his sister’s hair, and he feels a pang inside his heart, remembering Saya, remembering that he will never see her again. But then he notices Javi’s expression, the wonderful, soft relief of his smile, and he feels content. There is happiness for him, too, in Javi’s happiness. He smiles.

Laura chooses that moment to peel herself away from Javi, looking at him, turning his face this way and that, then quickly looking down at where Javi’s shirt is half unlaced. “The curse?” she asks, a quiver in her voice.

“Gone,” Javi tells her, and Laura seems to sag against him a little.

“I’m so mad at you,” she tells him then, but there is no passion in that statement, just pure relief. Then her eyes land on Yuzuru and dart over his face, widening in surprise – then get stuck on his ears.

Laura gasps and takes a step as if to move herself between Javi and Yuzuru to shield her brother. “An elf - ?!” she breathes, her eyes sharp as she glares at Yuzuru.

“Laura,” Javi says, resting a placating hand on her shoulder. He reaches out for Yuzuru’s hand with the other. “It’s all good,” he says. “This is Yuzu. He’s my –“ Javi stops there, blushes, clearly not sure how to sum them up. “My husband?” he says finally, with a sheepish smile.

Yuzuru giggles.

Laura looks up at Javi, at their linked hands, at Yuzuru, before turning back to Javi. “You have some real explaining to do, Javier Fernández.” 

* 

It does take a lot of explaining.

To Laura, who sits and listens to the tale, alternating between cursing Javi and gripping his hand – and Yuzuru’s, after a while – so hard that it hurts, and in the end declares that she needs more coffee to deal with this.

To Kian, the village chief, and Antonio and Sara, his two advisors, because gossip travels fast in Tillo and Javi had almost forgotten about the furore the elven curse had caused in the village before he left. To them, Javi recounts a redacted version of the story, and does not feel bad at all about the little white lies interspersed throughout, because they do not need to know everything. In the end, Kian nods and says: “Welcome home, then,” with a warm nod for Javi, and a curious glance at Yuzuru.

Antonio seems to be the only one of the three visitors who doesn’t struggle with looking at Yuzuru for longer than a moment – he smiles, and shakes Yuzuru’s hand, then inquires about the maiden of the  _ shirosei _ he had once known, before he had met Caleb, his  _ almagemela _ .

It takes a lot of explaining to the children, too, when they gather by the bonfire Antonio insists on lighting in the fields behind his and Caleb’s house, inviting half the village. Galen, the old grouch, shows up uninvited, sputtering about curses and doom, but in the end – after some sharp words from Kian – has no choice but to close his mouth and back off. Javi notes that Galen hobbles off to find a log to sit on, some distance from the fire, and sneaks glances at Yuzuru, rubbing at his eyes here and there as if he could not believe what he is seeing.

Several of the villagers have a similar reaction to Yuzuru, Javi notices. The younger ones look, blush, stutter, then look again when they think nobody is paying attention anymore. The older ones – well, some of them do the same, while others look away almost immediately, with a quick sign of the Spirit of Life to ward off misfortune...

The children, however, have no such qualms. They sit around Yuzuru, and demand he tell them stories of the elves.

“So elves really are real?” asks Marla once Yuzuru finishes describing Kenkami, while her two older brothers roll their eyes.

“Of course they are, Marla!” chastises Dan. “He is here, isn’t he.” Then he turns his face up to Yuzuru. “Do you ride dragons, then? Javi told us stories about dragons before. Are dragons real, too?”

Yuzuru laughs, a bright, happy sound, and Javi grins at him from where he’s sitting in the grass, his shoulder pressed into Yuzuru’s knee. He shrugs, and doesn’t comment. Let Yuzuru deal with this one.

“I’m afraid they are not,” Yuzuru says, holding his hands out apologetically. “At least I have never seen one, but who knows,” he adds when the boys collectively deflate.

“What about unicorns?” asks little Ramona, then leans closer to whisper: “Your horse looks like a unicorn, is he a unicorn? Did he lose his horn?”

Yuzuru smiles indulgently. “I cannot tell you that,” he whispers back conspiratorially. “I’d have to ask Kōri first, he likes to keep his secrets.”

Ramona  _ ooohs _ , then claps her hands to her face in delight. “Kōri is a nice name. What does it mean?” she goes on. “Will he talk to me? Tell me secrets?”

“It means  _ ice _ ,” says Yuzuru. “And well, maybe you can ask him yourself tomorrow.”

Ramona is nodding fervently, and Yuzuru’s eyes are bright in the light of the crackling bonfire, his features soft and so, so beautiful. Javi cannot blame his fellow villagers for staring – and stare they do. None as unabashedly as Micah, though, the smith’s young son.

While the others quarrel about who will talk to Kōri first, Micah sidles up to Yuzuru, all doe-eyed.

“I like your earrings,” he tells Yuzuru under his breath, looking at the rings and gems that adorn Yuzuru’s ear. “They are so pretty.”

“Thank you,” Yuzuru says, and tilts his head for Micah to see better, his hair spilling down his shoulder as he does so.

Encouraged, Micah goes on. “You are so beautiful,” he coos. “Will you marry Javi? Can I marry you if he doesn’t want to?”

Javi nearly chokes on his cider, trying hard not to laugh. Yuzuru shoots Javi a mildly alarmed look, though, and Javi decides to take mercy on him.

“He is quite taken, Micah,” Javi tells the boy. “I’m sorry,” he shrugs apologetically. “I’m sure you will find someone just as beautiful for yourself, too,” he adds, and pats Micah’s shoulder once he stands up.

Micah sighs. “I don’t know, Javi,” he admits, crestfallen.

“Hey, Micah,” Javi says, and pulls Micah into a short embrace. “You know, love always finds you. Usually when you are least expecting it,” he smiles, and he is sure the boy doesn’t quite understand what he means, but Micah returns the smile, and that is what matters.

“I hope my love is very beautiful, too,” Micah adds with one last glance at Yuzuru, before he bounces off to join the other girls and boys, who have by now moved on to bickering over who gets the longest stick to roast apples with.

Javi moves from the grass to sit next to Yuzuru on the log he is occupying. Yuzuru is blushing.

“They love you,” Javi tells him with a smile, and links their hands between them, enjoying the simplicity of all this. The warm crackling fire. The starry summer night. The joy of having Yuzuru here with him, close, alive, safe. “I love you,” he whispers and leans in, close enough for Yuzuru’s hair – loose, unbraided – to tickle his nose. “I will always love you.”

And when Yuzuru turns to face him, and smiles, golden in the firelight, then welcomes Javi’s lips with his own, Javi knows that this is the ultimate truth, the only truth, and the only thing he will ever need. That no matter where they go, and no matter how hard Destiny may yet challenge them, that this,  _ them _ , this light that has found him in the darkness, is what happiness is, what love is, what life is. For now. For ever.


	13. Epilogue: A Missive To Send

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, at the end of the story. Thank you so much for reading, leaving me comments along the way, and feeling for these boys! I always love to hear what you, dear readers, think, so it was great to get your feedback, even though I am abysmal with replying - I am sorry if I have not responded directly to each and every one of your comments, but please know that I appreciate all of them very much and will try to answer as many as possible. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the ride. <3 And I hope you are all keeping well during these difficult times! Stay strong, hang in there! 
> 
> Once again, a big fat thank you to @MsDaring aka [@kakimashouu](https://www.instagram.com/kakimashouu/) on Instagram, both for the fantastic fan art that honestly was what got me started and kept me going, and for cheering for me throughout!

_ Dearest Saya, _

_ Thank you for your last letter – it had reached me just before Javi and I left Tillo to travel south. We have now finally arrived at the coast! By the way, you would not believe how different each of the towns and settlements we passed on the way was from the other. _

_ _

_ I always assumed that the koshiri would be more like us, keeping to the same traditions and styles across the whole kingdom, but it seems that each village has its own little quirks – we did not stay long in each place, barely longer than a night before moving on to the next one, but there were so many colors, so many different  _ people _ . I am learning a lot about humankind. _

_ _

_ Altea – the seaside town where we are now – is even more intriguing. They stare at me a little less here, maybe because they are more used to travelers, what with the harbor and sailors from all over the world. It’s refreshing. We really should go out into the world more – the shirosei, I mean. It would be wise… though I doubt father will agree. Still – yes, please, Saya, come visit! I think it is a great idea. You would  _ love _ the sea. _

_ _

_ The sea – it is as marvelous as the stars, if not more so. (Yes. I know. I am a disgrace to elvenkind.) It has a hundred, a thousand faces. In the morning, before sunrise, it is slate gray and usually calm, and then it turns fiery as the sun rises above it. It’s the color of a bluebird’s eggs during the day, in the shallows, then glitters silver in the afternoon, gold towards evening. I’ve never seen anything like it, the way it ripples, the way the waves crash. You would love it. I know I do. (Except the fact that it tastes like salt! I learned how unpleasant that is the first time I swam. Javi laughed so hard he nearly drowned himself.) _

_ _

_ To answer your questions – yes, I am feeling fine. No, I am not dead yet, nor do I feel like I am dying. No, my hair is certainly not turning silver yet. I still do not know whether I will age the way the koshiri do – if you do find something in the library, please let me know. It would be a little inconvenient, I suppose, to remain unchanged while Javi grows older beside me… People might start thinking I’m his son, or something equally horrifying. _

_ _

_ Please tell  _ okaa _ I miss her, send her my love. I so long to see her, too, and father, but I do not think it will be possible? I hope they allow you to travel! And I am sorry, again, Saya, for dropping the burden of being father’s successor on you – but you know you will make a better Queen than I ever could be as King. Maybe Kibe can still succeed in his bid for your hand in marriage and fulfil his father’s wishes? (I am joking, of course. Do NOT marry Kibe.) _

_ _

_ Javi is well, too. I am keeping an eye on him. His sister was very curious about his  _ magical recovery _ , however. I’m sure she would love to get her hands on some of Akira’s ointments, if he feels so inclined. _

_ _

_ I will finish up here, sister, and go wake my lazy  _ husband _ (his words, not mine… but I don’t mind). He has promised to ride out to a nearby beach with me. _

_ _

_ I miss you! _

_ _

_ Love, _

_ Yuzu _

_ _

_ PS: Bring me some proper tea from Kenkami if – when! – you come, I beg you. Javi insists on drinking coffee. I love him, and do not have the heart to tell him… but I hate that drink with all my soul.  _

**Author's Note:**

> Intrigued? Do let me know in the comments! (And if you are, don't forget to subscribe, so you get a nifty email notification when I update.)


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